


Sweet Nothings

by aqueenofokay



Category: Banana Bus Squad, gbg
Genre: Cyberpunk AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-11 18:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 41,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15977750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqueenofokay/pseuds/aqueenofokay
Summary: A rich kid. A hacker. A police officer. All three are caught up in a neon, violent city and headed down a path that will either unite them or tear them apart.





	1. Sweet Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I have some explaining to do. This originally started as a short on Tumblr and has turned into a massive series of shorts with three different POVS that the story alternates from.   
> I know that I haven't updated the Feathered Prince in awhile and I apologize for that. I just kinda lost motivation for it. I will go back to it, I just got caught up in this cyberpunk AU and you guys on tumblr seem to really like it and I love it too so I want to finish it before going back to TFP. Expect daily updates for Sweet Nothings on here and tumblr.   
> Thank you so much for your support and understanding <3

Neon light glimmered on the wet pavement. Billboards and store windows flashed brightly, showing wet those who looked up at them the latest in screens to surrounded themselves with. Overhead, cars and bikes flew past the tops of grey skyscrapers. Through the glowing windows of the penthouses atop those skyscrapers, one could see the rich partying and playing with the newest in technology, showing it off to those who had yet to buy it. 

Some of them grew horns from their pale shoulders, while others had their cheekbones sharpened to thin points, while others had grand rippling collars of flesh and gemstones around their throats. 

“It is the height of fashion,” One reporter had said when the trend first came about. “Soon, the norm will be to have colourful horns and bright flashing lights under our skin. It is the future.” 

On the edges of the bright, neon city, grey, ugly and unforgiving apartment blocks reached for the cold sky, their small circular windows illuminated with cold white light from the apartments inside. From one of the small circular windows several stories up, a young man watched the rain fall down the glass. His gaze shifted away from the glass, to the glowing city beyond the grey narrow streets. Neon spotlights shown into the night air. A hoverbike sped past, it’s rider’s coat rippling in the cold air. 

The hoverbike flew into the neon city. It’s engine roared. It slowly began to descend towards the street, parking out front of the entrance to a large mall, people streaming in and out of it’s sliding glass doors. They walked past brightly lit stores selling everything from the latest fashions to the latest drug made legal to restaurants and cafes boasting large menus. 

In one of these cafes, sitting by the rainy window, was a young boy, his black hair falling over his dark eyes. His long black coat hung over the back of his chair. In his hand was his phone, a translucent screen on which he scrolled through photos his friends had posted. In his other hand was a bubble tea, the black bobas sucked through the pink coloured straw and popped between his teeth. 

Around his wrists, the skin was raised above an intricate pattern of metal wires. In between the wires, lights glowed under his skin. They changed colour with every movement, every breath, every heartbeat. 

Slowly, he raised his head to look up at the rainy window and the neon world outside the sprawling mall. The silver ring wrapping around his right iris glowed. He blinked. A photo of the window appeared on the screen in his hand. He wrote a quick caption and posted it. 

“Sorry that took so long.” The black haired boy looked up from his screen at the boy in a long red coat sitting down across from him, a strawberry milk tea in his hand. He never got the bobas. “Took a little longer than I thought. What do you think?” He pulled his sleeve up, revealing the newest tattoo on his arm. 

“Looks nice.” The black haired boy smiled, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Whoa, fuck, Evan. When did you get those?” He pointed to the bracelets under his skin. The lights flashed as he rolled his wrists. 

“A few days ago,” Evan said, watching the lights flash. “Looks cool, doesn’t it?” 

“It’s kinda weird but sure.” The other boy laughed. “Did it hurt?” 

“A little yea…” Evan blinked. He remembered that he had asked for extra anaesthesia. The surgeon hadn't even batted an eye at the request. The drug oozed from the needle into his system. He remembered how languid he had felt as it started to kick in. He remembered closing his eyes moments before his skin was sliced open, the sharp scalpel leaving a thin, deep red line that would be peeled back. 

When Evan had woken up, white bandages were wrapped around his wrists. He could see the bumps of the wires, could see the glimmer of the lights. He hadn’t been able to take the gauze off till today. He had stood in his large white bathroom, staring at the wires wrapping around muscle and bone under his skin, watching the lights change colour. He wasn’t quite sure why he got them. They were nothing. Sweet nothings. “I don’t think it’s weird. It’s just like your tattoos.” Evan had said, gesturing to the several pieces that covered the boy’s wrists. “You’re weird, Lui.” 

“No I’m not. It’s cool.” 

“Yeah, like twenty years ago.” Evan smiled, leaning back in his chair. The lights under his skin flashed. Drops of rain turned pink and purple in the neon light slid down the window. Their conversation turned away from their modifications as they finished their drinks. The cafe bustled around them. 

“Come on.” Lui finally said as he finished his drink. “I want to play the new games you got.” Evan smiled, getting up. He pulled on his black coat, the ends of it brushing against his black-clad knees. They walked through the busy halls of the mall, past glittering neon stores. On the escalator down to the first floor, Evan watched the people around him. Some were in a hurry, others had nothing better to do. Evan followed Lui outside to where they had parked their bikes. They pulled on their helmets and got on, the engines rumbling to life. Evan’s feet left the ground as the bike slowly rose into the air. Rain whipped around them. Lui nodded to Evan. 

The two rose into the wet, neon night sky and sped off towards the towering skyscrapers. 

Under Evan’s gloves, the lights in his skin flashed. 


	2. Air

Blue neon lights glowed. Fingers flashed across a silver keyboard. Computers hummed. Balanced precariously on thin metal pipes, wires dangling around him, a tall boy stared at the laptop balanced on a pipe in front of him, his long legs stretched across the warm pipes.

Pink earbuds in his ears played ‘ _ Telephone _ ’ by Lady Gaga, the album art on his phone placed on the pipe beside him displaying the words ‘pussy wagon’ in bright pink letters. 

Strapped to his back was two large boosters, a bright red button the strap over his right shoulder. The purple coloured metal glinted in the neon blue light. Hanging around his shoulders was his laptop bag, an old leather thing he couldn’t bring himself to part with. 

Surrounded by massive servers, their fans whirring, their lights flashing, their black metal cases protecting them only from the elements, the boy bit his lip as he typed quickly. For a moment, his gaze on the laptop screen unfocused, his right eye scanning the screen in his eye. The white ring around his iris glowed.

“The ‘vault’ contains five million. Get me 85%. The rest is for your troubles.” The email written in glowing white words hovered in the neon air in front of him. When it came to jobs like these, he never asked questions. Money was money. It passed hands every day. Other jobs, however, he couldn’t help but question their motives. 

“Fry it.” The client had demanded. 

“You know what that is going to do...right?” Fitz had asked nervously. He had waited an hour for a response. 

“Yes. I’ll pay you extra.” The email read. Fitz had stared at the email, the cold words hovering in the middle of his bedroom. Outside the large circular window, the neon city glowed. Drops of rain slid down the glass.

Finally, he responded. 

“Alright.” 

One week later, everyone was talking about the dangers of implants in eyes. 

Fitz pushed the memory away; he had work to do. He blinked and the email was gone, replaced with the notes he had written in preparation for the job. He blinked once more and his gaze refocused on the laptop screen. His fingers flew across the keyboard. 

His phone lit up with a text. He broke his focus to check it. 

“Hey, Fitz...did you get coffee cream this morning?” The text read. It was from Fitz’s younger roommate, Mason. 

“Can’t you just check the fridge?” Fitz texted back with a smile, knowing full well that he could have just said ‘yes’; he never made things easy for the younger boy. 

“Oh yeah.” Mason quickly texted back. Fitz smiled and put his phone back down, getting back to work. He finished the last of the code, his sharp gaze snapping to the large number at the top of the screen. A smile tugged at his lips as it started to go down rapidly. He picked up his phone. 

“Done.” He texted his client. He set his phone down as the last of the money disappeared from the account. He expertly hid his virtual tracks as his cut was transferred to him. He closed his laptop and put it into his bag along with his phone and earbuds. 

Closing the bag, he began the precarious climb back down to the floor of the bank, past all of the servers that were now known as 'vaults'; no one used cash anymore. 

The climb down would have been easier were it not for the heavy pack on his back but the pain was worth the easy get away. He dropped down to the metal floor, a faint echoing thud echoing through the server room. He pulled his black face mask up over his nose, his sharp eyes glancing around the neon blue room before silently moving towards the door. He swiped the stolen key card over the keypad, the heavy door sliding open. The long hallway was dark. The tall boy stepped into the hallway, his white sneakers silent on the black marble floor. 

“Hey!” A voice called out. He turned, bright light flashing in his eyes. The security guard ran at him, pulling his baton from his belt. He swung at Fitz who dodged out of the way. He grabbed the guard’s arm and twisted before sharply bending at the waist, throwing him over his shoulder to the floor. The guard let out a groan of pain as he crashed to the floor. One sharp punch knocked him out. 

The door at the end of the hall opened as the alarm went off. 

A harsh white neon light flashed. 

Fitz got up and turned, sprinting towards the other end of the hall as more guards chased after him. He could see the door to the roof. A guard reached for him. He turned to kick him hard in the chest, sending him falling back into another guard. Another lunged at him. Fitz grabbed his arm and threw him at the door, the window shattering. He stepped over the guard and hurried out onto the roof. Cold rain fell through the air. Neon lights flashed. Voices from glowing neon ads projected onto walls and screens floated up to him. Another guard lunged towards Fitz but the tall boy was too quick for him. 

Fitz turned as he neared the edge, a smile spreading on his face. 

His right hand curled around one for the straps, his thumb hovering over the red button. 

With his left hand, he saluted the furious guard. 

His heel slipped over the edge of the building. 

Gravity took hold of him. 

Fitz fell backwards off the towering skyscraper, the cold air whipping around him. 

The rain stung against his cheeks. 

Neon lights flew past him. 

He pressed down onto the red button. 

The boosters on his back rumbled to life, smoke suddenly bursting from the ends of them, sending Fitz back up into the air. He couldn’t help the laugh that burst from his chest as he flew through the night air. The wind pulled at his black coat and blonde hair that had become soaked with the rain. He spread his arms as he flew over the glowing neon city, hover bikes and cars passing by below him. 

Up here, there was no worries, no money, no pain. 

Just air. 


	3. Red Light

Rain fell on the red neon-lit street. Smoke floated into the cold air. Hovercar engines rumbled. Crowds of young adults with nothing better to do gathered around the cars, betting on their driver’s for the next race. Standing in groups were men dressed in black, their eyes scanning the crowd. Some of them were armed. There was a lot of money to be made tonight. Some of the racers would look to these men as if waiting for orders. Quick messages were sent and bribes were paid off. Winners were selected. 

One of the racers stood apart from the crowd, his eyes on his black and white painted car. His black leather jacket glinted in the red neon light, his black boots tapping in time to the music playing from one of the hovercars. His knuckles had sharpened to fine points, a process that had taken hours and a lot of painkillers. Strapped to his thigh was a gun. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, glancing up at the falling rain. Overhead, hover cars and bikes flew past. Ads projected on buildings flashed. 

His gaze lowered back to the car. 

His bright eyes landed on a young man dressed in black. The young man turned, meeting the driver's gaze. A few strands of black hair peeked out from under his large hood and fell over his forehead. Rain dripped off the edge of his hood. His big dark eyes looked over the driver who stared back. He watched him trail his hand over the smooth white paint of the hover car. The young man took a drag from his vape, a thick cloud of white smoke billowing around him. As the smoke cleared, he raised his gaze to see the tall driver standing beside him, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“Do you like it?” The driver asked, leaning against the side of the car. 

“Is it yours?” 

“It is.” The driver said, noticing the implanted lights and wires wrapping around the young man’s wrists as he took another drag from the vape. Smoke billowed around them. It smelled like candy. 

“I like it.” The young man said softly. “How fast does it go?” He smiled. The driver stared down at him, drinking in the damp look of his black hair, the bright silver ring wrapping around his right iris, his broad shoulders and the way he looked up at him through thick black lashes. The driver pulled his gaze away from him to scan the crowd. He watched a circle of the men in black for a moment. None of them looked in his direction. 

A little fun couldn't hurt. 

“Do you wanna see?” 

“What?”

“Do you want to ride with me?” The driver asked. The young man stared up at him, his dark eyes flickering over his face. 

The neon red lights bathed them in a hot, bloody glow. 

“Sounds like fun.” The black haired boy finally said with a smile. The driver smiled, pulling open the passenger door for him. The young man got in, tucking his vape into his pocket. The driver walked around the car, meeting the gaze of his opponent, a tall man who had covered his arms black with tattoos. 

“The fuck do you think you're doing?” The man spat. The driver flipped him off as he got into his car, slamming the door.

“I’m Evan, by the way.” The black haired boy said, the lights around his wrists flashing, their soft pink glow flickering across his face as he pulled off his hood. 

“Tyler.” The driver smiled. He glanced down at the implanted lights. They made him seem otherworldly, a visitor from another world finding his way through the strange neon city. 

Delicate but tough, gentle but painful. 

Evan’s gaze was on Tyler’s sharpened knuckles. Why would he want them sharpened? The thrill of the idea sent a jolt of electricity through Evan, his right-hand curling into a fist on his thigh. Tyler pretended not to notice as he turned the key, the hovercar roaring to life. 

“Fuck.” Evan laughed as the powerful engine rumbled the hover car. The lights around his wrists changed to a hot red shade. Not even three hours ago, he was playing video games with Lui. For once he was glad that he couldn't sleep. Tyler smiled as he flipped one of the switches, the car’s boosters rumbling to life. 

Beside them, his opponent's car roared to life. 

The crowd around them backed away from the cars, watching with anticipation. 

A young woman with long hot pink hair stood between them, a wide smile spread on her red lips. 

She raised the checkerboard flag in her hand, her sharp pink nails glinting in the neon red light. 

Evan held his breath. 

She suddenly brought the flag down, the black and white squares rippling through the cold air. 

The hovercar shot forward, the force pinning the two to their seats. The street quickly began to fall away, the two cars rising into the sky. The city flew past in a vivid neon blur. Tyler gripped the wheel tightly, his bright gaze shooting occasionally to the mirror, looking for the other car. The car turned suddenly, flying around a tall skyscraper. Neon lights reflected off the wet metal of the two cars as they flew past the towers. They weaved dangerously between other hover cars and bikes, their drivers swerving out of the way of the racers. It wouldn’t be long before a police car was coming after them but for now, the two flew through the neon city, shooting around corners and rising high into the air before darting back down in an attempt to lose the other in the crowded streets. Evan’s chest rose and fell heavily, his eyes wide. He gripped the edge of his seat tightly, his glance shifting to Tyler who shot a bright smile at him. Evan turned his gaze back to the window, the lights in his wrists casting him in a bright blue glow. 

A sudden force suddenly lurched the car forward, the two boys thrown forward. 

Evan put his hands out to stop himself from hitting his head off the dashboard. Tyler grit his teeth, looking behind them to see the other racer’s car coming at them again. Tyler could do nothing but put his arm around to pin Evan down to his seat as the car rammed into them again. 

An emergency alarm sounded through the car. 

Evan’s wide eyes met Tyler’s. 

“Hold on.” Tyler grit his teeth, gripping the wheel. 

The car began to descend sharply towards the ground. 

Rain splattered onto the windshield. 

The alarm wailed. 

Oil fell onto the street below. 

The car hit the ground hard, the two thrown forward once more. 

Evan’s ears rang. 

The car’s emergency light went on, a dark red neon glow filling the car. 

Tyler quickly pushed open the door and got out. He pulled his gun from its holster, aiming it at the hovercar that sped overhead. Gunshots echoed through the street, sparks flying off the bottom of the car. The car turned sharply and began it’s slow, easy descent to the wet pavement. Neon lights glinted in the puddles of rainwater. Evan watched from the inside of the car, not sure if he should get out or not. The lights around his wrists had gone white. 

“Street racers are scary.” Lui had said once. “Don’t fuck with them.” A part of him wanted to get out of the car and run but another part of him had already accepted that he was in too deep and was dying to see what would happen next. His dark eyes watched Tyler, his chest slowly rising and falling. The other driver got out of his car, storming towards Tyler who kept his gun held tight in his hands. There was something hesitant about the way he gripped the gun. He stepped back from the driver, water splashing around his boots. 

“Why did you sabotage me?” Tyler yelled. 

“You’re finished, Tyler.” The driver snarled. He glanced down at the gun before suddenly swinging at Tyler. Evan saw a flash of gold on his knuckles. Tyler ducked out of the way, the gun trembling in his hands. The driver swung at Tyler again, his brass knuckles connecting with his jaw. Tyler collapsed to the ground, blood spilling onto the wet pavement. The gun fell from his hand, landing close to his car. “You know the rules.” He glanced down at the gun in Tyler's hands. "You know what would happen to you if you shoot me." He grit his teeth. “Fucking pathetic.” He spat on Tyler as he tried to crawl away, blood dripping from his mouth and nose. The driver grabbed his arm and flipped onto his back, raising his brass-knuckled fist to punch him again. 

A flash of dark red light caught the driver’s eye. 

He looked up. 

A gunshot echoed through the street, making Tyler jump. Blood and bits of flesh and bone splattered to the ground. The driver’s body collapsed to the pavement, half of his skull missing. An eyeball oozed out of what was left of his socket.

Tyler heaved for air, his eyes wide. 

He sat up, staring at the body that lay on the wet pavement. 

Slowly, Tyler turned. 

Evan stood by the car, Tyler’s gun his hands. The lights around his wrists glowed a dark, angry red colour. Rain plastered his hair to his skull. 

“W-What have you done?” Tyler screamed, rage building up in his chest. Evan slowly lowered the gun, his eyes wide. 

“H-He was gonna kill you!” Evan cried. “I fucking saved your life!” 

“No, you didn’t.” Tyler snarled as he got to his feet. He yanked the gun from Evan’s hands, blood and rainwater oozing down his face. “We have to get out of here. Now.” Tyler grabbed Evan’s hand, pulling him away from the car and down a dark, dimly lit alleyway. 

Evan glanced back at the two cars, seeing the feet of the man he had just murdered. Tyler’s grip tightened on Evan’s hand as they turned the corner, leaving the two cars and the bloody body behind. 


	4. Arcade Games

Cold rain pattered onto the circular window. A soft neon blue light illuminated the small living room. Takeout containers were left on the side table. Soft, brightly coloured pillows were placed neatly on the couch. Gaming controllers made a tangled mess on the coffee table. The desk under the window was clean, the laptop charging quietly. A white light in the even smaller kitchen illuminated a mess of plates in the sink still waiting to be cleaned and a neatly organized cupboard full of cups and plates above it. The door by the TV opened, the light from a messy room streaming into the dimly lit room. A young boy stepped quietly out of the bedroom, his backpack resting on his pink-clad shoulders.  He tip-toed across the living room to the second bedroom door. He knocked. 

“Mmm...what?” An exhausted voice called out. The boy opened the door. 

“Fitz?” He called out. His eyes landed on the bed where the blankets had been balled into a heap. A long left leg stuck out from the blankets. “I’m going out. Want me to get you anything?” 

“No…” Fitz yawned. The boy glanced at the side of the bed, noticing the jetpack leaning against the wall. “If I catch you touching that I’m gonna beat the shit out of you.” Fitz had said when he first got it. Despite his voice being full of violence, his eyes had been gentle. He had said it was for work but Mason couldn't think of anything work related he'd be doing with that, especially since Fitz said that he worked with computers. "Like an I.T. guy." Fitz had smiled.  “Did you wash the dishes in the sink?” Fitz asked from under the blanket. 

“Yup.” The boy lied. Fitz stuck his hand out from under the bed and gave him a thumbs up. 

“Thank you, Masey. Have a good time. Be safe.” Fitz’s hand slid back under the blanket. 

“I will,” Mason said. He stared at the heap on the bed for a moment longer before stepping out of the room. He had met Fitz several years ago when he was just starting high school and he was finishing it. Mason liked to believe that Fitz somehow knew about what was going on at home for Mason. Why else would he have been so welcoming when Mason showed up on Fitz’s front door with a backpack full of all odd things he had wanted to take with him when he ran away instead of clothes and a toothbrush. 

Whether he knew or not what had been going on, Fitz became a big brother and a parent all in one that night. 

Maybe that’s why he's so tall...

Mason shook the silly thought from his head as he closed the door. 

Mason had reached the front door when he stopped. He turned, his eyes landing on the dishes in the sink. He glanced back up at Fitz’s door.  He let out a sigh before walking back into the kitchen. He gave the dishes a quick rinse before hurrying out the door. 

 

“Do it! Fucking do it, Smitty! Do it!” Music blasted through the flashing neon lit air. Screens on the large arcade machines glowed brightly. Teenagers wandered between the aisles lined with arcade games, their hands full of coins and tickets. Some of them, the rich kids, had strange neon lights implanted around their wrists and necks. 

Gathered around one of the machines were four boys, their wide eyes on the screen. In the middle of the group was a short boy, his hair dyed a striking milk white. His hands flew across the brightly coloured buttons. His eyes were locked onto the screen. One iris was blue, the other was red. He told everyone that they were real, that he was born that way, but his friends had seen the contact cases on his bathroom counter. On his left stood a short boy dressed in a blue and white bomber jacket and black, shiny pants, his blue sneakers dotted with stains and damp with rainwater. Pinned to his jacket was a large pin of a knight’s helmet. It glowed in the neon light. “Do it!” He screamed at the white-haired boy who laughed nervously, his hands pounding on the game’s buttons. The screen flashed, the pixelated fighter beating his opponent. On Smitty’s right was the other two boys. One of them had frizzy bleach blonde hair, his fingers covered with rings. His boots were covered with rhinestones. He wore an expensive black coat over a plain mustard yellow shirt, his jeans old and torn at the knee. Beside him stood an older boy, his hair neat and recently trimmed. His pink hood was pulled over his head, his expensive white shoes tapping on the floor in time to the music. He turned to see Mason pushing his way through the crowd, the neon lights flashing around him. 

“Just in time. Smitty’s about to finally win this game.” He said, pulling the younger boy into the group. Mason smiled, watching Smitty frantically press the buttons. The pixelated fighter suddenly punched his opponent, sending him falling to the ground. The boys cheered as the machine spat out a long strand of tickets. Smitty smiled as he triumphantly pulled the tickets from the slot. Mason met his multi-coloured gaze and smiled. He thought the body mods were so cool but Fitz was against it despite having one himself. 

"Why? Can't I at least get the eye screen? You have one!" Mason had whined one night. Fitz had shaken his head. 

"You're not getting any." Fitz had snapped. Mason stared at him. There was something haunting in Fitz's gaze. Mason had looked back at the TV, not wanting to think about it anymore. 

Now, the boys hurried over to the glass counter, their eyes scanning over the different rewards. The neon lights flashed. 

“Oh! Oh! Smitty! Get that one!” The boy in the bomber jacket insisted, his finger pressed against the glass. On the other side was a sharp toy sword. 

“No. That’s dumb, Swagger.” 

“No, it’s not! Get it!” 

“No!” 

“Do it!” 

“Toby! He’s peer pressuring me!” 

“You should get the sword.” The boy in the pink hoodie said. Mason knelt down, peering among the shelves of toys and odd gadgets. There were remote controlled helicopters and charms for phones, bright neon glowing slinkies and even gift cards to Mason’s favourite bubble tea place. He liked to get a strawberry milk tea with mango jellies instead of the pearls. He found them too tough to chew. Fitz always got pearls. 

“I don’t want to share my drink with you.” Fitz had laughed when Mason asked why he got the pearls. Mason had rolled his eyes. He stole a sip from Fitz’s drink anyways. 

“Yes! Give it to me!” Swagger suddenly yelled, taking the sword from Smitty’s hands. Its hilt was bright yellow neon, the golden glow illuminating the boy’s face as he swung it around dangerously. 

“Jesus…” The frizzy-haired boy laughed. 

“Give it back!” Smitty yelled. “I didn’t get it for you! Give it back!” Smitty lunged for the sword but the other boy danced away from him. Mason giggled, chasing after him past the neon screens and arcade games. The boys burst out of the arcade into the harshly lit mall hall, nearly knocking over a large potted fern. Smitty tried again to grab the sword but failed, his sneakers squeaking on the floor. 

“Swagger! Give it back!” The frizzy-haired boy called out as he walked out of the arcade with Toby. 

“Fuck you, John!” 

“Okay.” John laughed. The boys played in the mall hallway until a security guard finally came along and told them to leave or quiet down. Swagger flipped him off as they left the mall, walking out onto the rainy street. They went to a small restaurant for a cheap dinner of warm noodles and sodas, the other dinners shooting glares at them when they got too loud. 

After dinner, they wandered through the rainy streets. Swagger continued to play with the sword, the gold light reflecting off the knight helmet pin on his coat. Smitty pouted when he still wouldn’t give it to him. They turned the corner, walking down a quiet street lined with parked hover cars. 

“I can do a sick trick with it!” Swagger suddenly threw the sword high in the air, the group of boys watching it spin wildly before coming back down. He stuck his hand out and caught the sword’s handle, the sharp end glinting in the light. 

“Let me try!” Smitty reached for the sword. Swagger laughed, swinging the sword out of reach. A loud cracking sound filled the air followed by the piercing sound of a car alarm. 

“Oh fuck.” Toby’s eyes widened. Swagger turned. The sword had struck the window of one of the parked hover cars and had gotten stuck in the glass. The car alarm wailed, it’s lights blaring. Swagger giggled nervously, trying to pull the sword out. It suddenly came free, glass flying across the street. 

“Fuck! Fuck! Run!” Mason giggled, sprinting down the street. The boys followed him, their nervous laughter echoing off the cement walls. They didn’t stop till they were a few blocks away, the group heaving for air. “You could have totally gotten us fucked, Swagger.” Mason laughed. Swagger laughed, swinging the sword in a circle. There pieces of glass sticking to his jacket. 

“I didn’t. It’s fine.” 

“It’s not fine.” Smitty crossed his arms. 

“Yes, it is!” 

“No, it’s not!” 

“Whatever!” Toby cried. “I’m cold.” He shivered under his black coat, starting down the alley. John trailed after him. Mason smiled at Swagger and Smitty before following after the two older boys. Smitty let out a loud, annoyed sigh before hurrying to catch up to them. Swagger smiled, swinging the sword as he followed them. 

Rain showered down onto the neon city. 

Hover cars flew overhead.

Disembodied voices from ads floated through the air. 

A loud gunshot echoed through the cold air. 

The boys froze. 

“T-That was around the corner…” John whispered. Toby suddenly grabbed John and Mason, shoving them towards a dumpster and a few trash cans. 

“Get down.” He hissed as Swagger and Smitty hurried over to them. The boys huddled in the dark, their eyes on the street. Swagger hid the glowing sword in his jacket, his chest rising and falling heavily. They heard the sound of running footsteps. Mason dared to lift his head up to see the street. He caught a glimpse of two young men running down the quiet street. One them had lights implanted into his wrists. 

Rich kids. 

Mason watched them turned the corner and disappear. 

“We should get out of here,” Toby said sharply. The boys scrambled to their feet, heading in the opposite direction the two men had gone. Toby started to turn left but Mason stopped, his gaze turning to look down the alley to the right. He could see steam rising into the air, could see a black and white hovercar and it’s red emergency light flashing. Curious, he started down the alley towards the hover car. “Mason!” Toby spat through gritted teeth. “Get back here!” Puddles splashed around Mason’s black sneakers. The red neon light flashed. He slowly reached the black and white hovercar. He turned his head, a flash of red caught his eye. His stomach rolled violently. Laying by a second hover car was the body of a man, the top of his head blown off. 

“Holy fuck.” Swagger gasped.

“T-Those are street racing cars. Holy fuck. Fuck!” Smitty panicked. “We gotta get out of here. Fuck. Oh, fuck.” 

“Why?” Swagger’s brow furrowed. “Just some rich kids racing cars.” 

“It’s not just rich kids.” Smitty hissed as Mason stepped towards the body. He slowly crouched down, his gaze on the man’s blown apart skull. He could see parts of his brain. “I heard that it’s a big, serious business and a lot of powerful people got their hands in it.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. That sounds fake.” Swagger rolled his eyes. 

“It’s true!” Smitty’s voice rose with panic. “We should-” Before he could say anything else, the loud sound of a hover car flying overhead cut him off. They watched as the hovercar slowly began to descend to the ground. Mason stood up, blood soaking into his shoe. Through the smoke and the steam, he could see the hover car’s doors open and two men getting out. He took a nervous step back as they approached him. 

“Did you do this?” One of them of them snarled. Mason shook his head, staggering back. The man shoved Mason hard to the pavement, blood and rainwater soaked into his pink hoodie. His head hit the pavement, pain exploding from the back of his skull. 

“Leave him alone!” Toby yelled. The second man pulled his gun from his coat, aiming it at Toby and the other boys who shrunk back against the cement wall, their eyes wide with terror. Swagger suddenly out a scream, running at the man, his neon sword swinging wildly through the air. The man simply punched him hard in the face, blood streaming from his nose. He kicked his legs out from under him, sending the dazed boy crashing to the pavement. Hands were suddenly gripping Mason’s arms, pulling him to his feet. 

“Let him go!” 

“He didn’t do anything!” Smitty screamed. “Let him go!” 

“Mason!” 

“He didn’t do it!” Mason’s feet dragged along the wet pavement. Dazed, he tried to pull away from the man but it was no use. He threw him into the back of the hovercar, the hard leather seat feeling cold. “Let him go!” 

The door slammed. 

"Mason!" 

Cold rainwater slid down the glass window. 


	5. Data

Morning dawned on the neon city with a burst of fiery orange and yellows painted with watercolours across the cloudy sky. Morning routines began with the quiet hum of the coffee machine and the gathering of things needed for the workday. Social medias were checked and updated. Plans were made. The news was read. Uniforms were put on. Students trekked to school while adults headed to work, their eyes fixated on their screens, implanted or held in their hands. 

Among the hovercar traffic, a police car passed by the tall windows of the skyscrapers. The car flew on autopilot towards its destination, the officer inside scanning his tired gaze over rugby scores, the ring around his blue iris glowing brightly as the screen shifted away to an email, the white words floating in the air in front of him. He took a sip from his coffee, his eyes glancing over the email from the commander. He grimaced as the sharp coffee hit his tongue. It was old and stale, the bitter taste leaving a lasting impression on his taste buds. 

“This needs to be handled quickly and quietly. You know what to do.” The email read. The officer blinked, the email from the commander disappearing. He set the cup down in the cupholder and put his hands back on the wheel, turning off autopilot. He hated these cases. They weren’t his to truly solve. The commander and the people he worked for just wanted the killer found. Whatever happened next would be out of his hands. Most often, whoever did it would be found dead on the beach a few days later, washed up by the tide. 

"It's called the Gang...It's a group made up of CEOs, old money...the powerful. No one can touch them. They do what they want. They control the city." One officer had told him on his first day. Besides the occasional whispers to warn new cops, no one talked about them.

It was better to not question it. 

However, he couldn’t help but enjoy these kinds of cases, getting caught up in the chase. 

The hovercar turned around a large skyscraper and slowly began its descent. As the car got lower, he could see two parked hover cars and a sheet over the body on the pavement. A couple of other officers stood around the scene, taking photos and keeping curious civilians back. The officer got out of his car, his long coat caught in the cold morning wind. 

“Brian.” One of the officers nodded to him. 

“How's it looking?” Brian asked as he walked over to the body. His gaze lingered on the black and white hovercar before landing on the body. 

“It’s gruesome.” The officer sighed. 

“You're welcome to look away,” Brian said as his fingers reached for the sheet. He slowly pulled it back, revealing the corpse. Brian blinked. He reached for the corpse’s hand, his right index finger pressing against his palm. His fingernail glowed. Hovering around the officer, glowing images and information told him everything he needed to know about the dead man. The ring around his iris glowed brightly. “He died late last night…” Brian breathed, reading the numbers that flashed across his gaze. It was a well-aimed shot. Whoever had pulled the trigger intended to kill him. “When was he last seen alive?” 

“He was participating in a street race. The race started and never finished apparently.” The officer standing behind him said, trying to keep his nervous gaze off the body. 

“Who was he racing against?” 

“Some newbie apparently. His name is Tyler. This car belongs to him.” He gestured to the black and white hovercar.  “I’ll send you the information we were given by...by…” 

“I get it.” Brian lowered the man’s hand. Slowly he stood, the glowing words, number and images still floating around him. “Has Tyler been located?” 

“No. We’re working on it.” 

“Good.” Brian’s attention was captured by a flash of red. He 

blinked, the data disappearing. He knelt down by the black and white hovercar, his eyes on a few splatters of blood. He pressed his finger into the small puddle of blood. He looked up at the few bits of data that came up. 

The blood belonged to a boy who had no criminal record and no real reason to be in a place like this with people like the street racers. Brian’s brow furrowed. He stared down at the wet pavement, noticing a gold neon light reflecting off the water that he hadn’t before. He pressed the side of his head against the pavement, looking under the car. 

Something gold glowed underneath it. 

He reached for it, his fingers curling around something plastic. He pulled it out. 

It was a toy sword. 

On the end of the hilt was the name of the arcade that it came from. He glanced back at the body. 

There is something else going on….

Brian stood up, the toy sword held tight in his hand. “Keep looking for Tyler. Check for any potential body mods, especially an eye screen. You’ll find him if he’s got one. If he doesn't, someone must have seen him. Check all data from this area. Sweep all profiles.” Brian instructed. The young officer nodded. Brian glanced back down at the sword. “I’m going to follow up with this…” 


	6. Taunt

Morning light spilt through the small, circular window. Hovercars and bikes cast dancing shadows onto the cement walls. Dark coffee dripped from the filter into the glass carafe. In the narrow, dingy hallway on the other side of the apartment door, kids ran back and forth, kicking a ratty old soccer ball around the cement floor. The sounds of a TV next door seeped through the wall. The small one-room apartment was as clean as it could be, the few dishes stacked neatly on the small counter, laundry kicked into the closet, the bed a tangled mess of blankets and limbs. 

Standing by the window, Evan stared out at the grey city bathed in the warm, hazy morning glow. It had stopped raining but he knew it was only a matter of time before the sky opened up again. The lights around his wrist glowed; casting him a calm forest green neon light. 

He turned his dark gaze away from the window to the bed where Tyler slept. They had shared the bed but Evan hadn't slept at all, his gaze locked on to the cement ceiling above him the whole night. Tyler hadn’t slept much either, silence hanging over the two of them. The black haired boy turned his gaze back to the window. 

By now, the body would have been found. 

Someone would already be looking for them. 

Or perhaps no one had found him yet. 

This city has a habit of eating people alive. 

He turned his gaze back to the grey sky. The ring around Evan’s iris glowed. News headlines appeared in front of him, floating in front of the glass. 

None of them were relevant. 

A part of him wanted to think that was a good thing but he knew better than that. 

The headlines disappeared. He read over a few texts from Lui but didn’t answer them. The glowing ring in his eye faded as he blinked, his gaze focusing back on the window and the city beyond. So long as he kept his head down, things would be fine. 

He had done this before. 

“Did you make coffee?” Tyler’s tired voice rang through the small room. Evan nodded, looking back at the coffee maker on the counter. “Thanks…” The tall blonde got up, his bare feet padding on the cement floor. Evan turned back to the window, watching Tyler’s reflection. Evan bit the inside of his lip. 

He’s hot…But he's a bit of a coward. 

He watched the way his shoulder muscles rippled under his shirt, the way his hands gently curled around the hot mug, the way he ran a hand through his blonde hair. Staring at him, Evan realised there was nothing done to his body. No mods, not tattoos, nothing. Evan tore his gaze away from his reflection as he turned around. 

He could feel Tyler’s sharp gaze on his back. “We gotta talk.” 

“About?” 

“About what you did. You fucked us, I hope you know that.” Tyler’s tone was sharp. Evan’s hands curled into fists. 

“I’m not scared of them,” Evan said as he turned around to face Tyler. He leaned against the cool circular glass. The lights around his wrists faded in a deep red tone. 

“You should be. The Gang is gonna come for us.” 

“The Gang is a gentlemen's club." Evan laughed. "Not some alleyway punks with nothing better to do than beating people up....I’m not scared of them.” 

“You’re nothing but a fucking rich kid. You don’t know about them like I do. I’ve seen what they do to people. They're fucking ruthless.” Tyler cried. “You should have just let him beat the shit out of me. Why did you shoot him?” 

“He was going to kill you. He wasn’t just going to beat the shit out of you. I pay attention. You clearly don't,” Evan hissed. He remembered looking around the neon-lit crowds the night before, remembered seeing the men in suits, remembered seeing Tyler’s racer threaten him, remembered seeing the attention on them. “It was you or him and I like you a lot more.” Evan crossed his arms. Tyler blinked. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“Nothing.” Evan’s brow furrowed. “I saved your life. You should be grateful.” 

“I’m not.” 

“Then jump out the window.” Evan spat. Tyler stared at him, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Look, I have money. I can take care of us. I know about the Gang. We just gotta lay low.” 

“How are we gonna lay low when you have a tracker in your skull?” Tyler crossed his arms. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Your eye screen. Don’t you know how easy it is to hack into them?” Tyler asked. Evan blinked. He hadn’t thought about that. Seeing him confused for once made Tyler feel good. His bright gaze drank in the black-haired young man who leaned against his window, the cold glass pressed against his hot skin. 

He’s hot...but he’s a bitch.

“I-I do...I’ve never had problems before though.” Evan shrugged as he met Tyler's piercing gaze. He never wanted him to look away. 

“Cause you’ve never murdered anyone before.” Tyler rolled his eyes. Evan blinked.

"Have you?" Evan resisted the urge to smile. Tyler stared at him. He crossed his arms. “Fine...if you’re so fucking paranoid, I’ll get it taken out.” Evan sighed. He cringed at the idea of his eye being peeled open again. He’d rather get the light implants again. 

“Thank you.” 

“It's not an easy operation. I want a good surgeon.” 

“I know a guy.” 

“Oh god…” Evan rolled his eyes. 

Tyler bit the inside of his lip. There was something smug about Evan that he both loved and hated. The thought of giving him something to really roll his eyes into the back of his skull over crossed his mind. Noticing the flush on Tyler’s cheeks, Evan smiled. “Then go ahead. Schedule me in, secretary.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Who else do you know, hmm?” Evan took a step towards him, his dark eyes staring up at him through his lashes. Evan reached his hand towards Tyler’s chest. Tyler’s hand suddenly grabbed Evan’s wrist, red light shining through his fingers. He pulled him closer. Evan smiled tauntingly up at him. Tyler slowly lowered his head, his lips inches from Evan's. Evan's breath escaped his parted lips in shuttering gasps. Tyler's sharp knuckles on his left hand grazed against his neck. Evan shivered. 

"I said..." Tyler breathed softly. He met Evan's gaze. "Shut up." With that, he shoved Evan away. 


	7. Not Enough

Rain dripped down the window. Grey, watery light filled the bedroom. With a yawn, the tall boy buried under his pile of blankets slowly rolled over. He stretched, pulling back the blanket. He sat up, his blue gaze falling in the circular window. Hovercars and bikes flew by. Towering grey skyscrapers rose into the stormy sky in the distance. He blinked, emails and texts appearing in the air above him. There was nothing new. 

He closed his eyes, cherishing the little break. Maybe he’d take Mason out to a nice lunch or take him shopping or go to the movies. They’d take the train into the downtown core, sitting on rattling red seats with nothing to look at but tunnel walls. He smiled at the idea and slowly rolled out of bed. He got dressed in a warm baby blue hoodie and black jeans, running a hand through his curly blonde hair. He reached for the bedroom door, pulling open. 

“Hey Mas…” He trailed off. 

The living room was full of silence. 

For once, the TV was off. The kitchen was clean, no milk splattered on the counter, no pieces of cereal crunching under his heel. The tall boy stared around the living room. Had he gone out again? 

_ Why didn’t he wake me up then?  _

His chest started to tighten with fear. 

_ Did he even come home?  _

“Masey?” He called out, crossing the small living room to the younger boy’s bedroom. “Mason!” He pushed open the door. The bedroom was a mess. Clothes lay scattered on the floor, the desk messy with cups that had to be cleaned and the bed was a cluster of blankets and the odd stuffed animal. It was the exact same as Mason had left it the day before. “Mason!” He could barely breath, dread settling over him. “Fuck.” He hurried back to his bedroom, grabbing his phone from the bedside table. He called him, listening to the droning ringing sound. 

“Hey! Sorry I missed you! Leave a message!” Mason’s recorded voice said cheerfully. There was a loud beeping sound. 

“Where are you? C-Call me!” He managed to choke out. He hung up, his hands starting to sweat. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” He pressed the call button again, listening to the droning ring. He couldn’t breathe. His hands shook. The call went to voicemail again. 

“Hey! Sor-” He hung up again and once more called. He paced the bedroom floor. His mind spun with the worst possibilities. 

_ If you weren’t careful, this city could eat you alive.  _

His heart pounded. Every horrifying thought brought a gasping wheeze from his chest. The call again when to voicemail. His knees suddenly gave out from under him, sending the tall boy collapsing to the floor as Mason’s voice echoed through the room. 

“Hey! Sorry I missed you! Leave a message!” The beep echoed through the room. Silence quickly followed. He stared up at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling heavily. The floor felt cold under his back. Rain pattered down the circular window. 

_ Not enough…. _

Everything he had done, all the hours of working to keep the growing boy fed, all the nights he spent worrying when Mason first started living with him about how he’ll take care of him, everything he had given up, the blood on his hands, the nights spent in front of a screen stealing, all of it wasn’t enough. He let Mason down. Tears spilled from his eyes. 

It’s his fault. He had lied to him. He didn’t tell him the truth about what he did. Maybe he had found out. Maybe he hated him now. Maybe he never wanted to come back. 

_ Not enough… _

The buzzer suddenly rang, making him jump. He staggered to his feet, stumbling out of the bedroom and into the living room. He reached for the speaker button by the front door. 

“M-Mason?” He called out. 

“No…” A quiet voice answered. “Fitz? It's me, Toby...Mason’s friend. We need to tell you something. Can we come up?” Toby asked. Fitz’s heart fell. His hands trembled. 

“O-Of course…” Fitz pressed the door button with trembling hands. Slowly, he stumbled away from the door, his head once more filling with nightmarish possibilities. A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. He pulled open the door and was greeted with the sight of an exhausted group of boys, one of them with dried blood sticking to his nose and chin. He searched among them for Mason’s face but he was not among them. “Where is Mason?” 

 

Rain pattered onto the pavement. Yellow police tap rippled in the cold wind. A few kids gathered around the tap, eager to see the crime scene. All that was left of the body now was a glowing holograph on the pavement. Officers stood around it, talking quietly among themselves. Standing behind the group of kids, Fitz watched the officers. 

_ Do they know about Mason?  _

He glanced at the black and white hovercar, seeing the damage done to the back of it. The ring around his iris glowed as he blinked, taking a photo of the crime scene. A part of him doubted there would be any sign of Mason’s kidnappers. According to Toby, they were quick; gone as quickly as they had appeared. Fitz sighed, turning away from the scene. He headed off back the way he had come, turning down a quiet street. 

A man dressed in black followed him. 

Fitz glanced over his shoulder quickly, his pace quickening. His long black coat rippled around him. Rain soaked his blonde hair. He turned the corner and pressed him against the cold cement wall. The man turned the corner. 

Fitz lunged at him, tackling him to the wet pavement. The man gritted his teeth, punching Fitz hard. He spat blood onto the pavement, his head spinning wildly. The man grabbed Fitz’s lapels, swinging him around to pin him against the wall. His arm pressed against Fitz’s neck, choking him painfully. Before he could react, he felt a taser pressed against his chest. 

“‘One move and I’ll taze the shit out of you.” The man spat. 

“I’m sure you will.” Fitz couldn’t help the sly smile pulling at his lips. The man punched him again. Fitz let out a groan of pain, blood filling his mouth. 

“I got a message for you, Fitz.” The man spat. “We know you stole five million from us. So we took your boy.” The man smiled, pressing the taser harder against his side. 

“You were following him…” Fitz resisted the urge to spit in his face.

“However, we’re willinging to cut a deal with you. We want you to find whoever it was that killed our racer and kill him. Once he’s dead, we’ll give you your boy back. Deal?” The man said through gritted teeth. 

“Why...why not wait for the police to find him?” 

“Too slow. We know you’re much smarter and faster. You get the job done.” The man smiled viciously. Fitz narrowed his eyes, the ring around his iris glowing. He scanned the man’s face, his information appearing beside him. 

“Luke. Age 27. Known criminal record; arrested for street racing, hacking and assault. Reported to have affiliations with the Gang.” Fitz skimmed over the glowing words. Luke’s arm suddenly pressed down harder onto his throat. 

“I see you reading me. You fucking robot.” He snarled. Fitz narrowed his eyes at him. He had no visible body mods on him. “You ain’t special.” 

“Whoever asked you to come find me thinks I am.” Fitz spat. 

“There are hundreds of you ‘hackers’. You aren’t special. If we aren’t satisfied with you, we’ll toss you and your boy to the dogs.” Fitz rolled his eyes. 

“You’ll kill me and Mason and toss us in the ocean. That’s what you’ll do if I don’t...satisfy you.” He couldn’t help the smile that played on his lips. Luke’s arm pressed harder on his throat. 

“Do we have a deal?” He demanded. Fitz blinked. “I don’t think you want to hear about what will happen to Masey if you say no.” Fitz’s upper lip curled into a sneer.   
“Don’t fucking call him that.” Anger bubbled in the tall boy’s chest. 

“So? Do we have a deal?” Luke smiled. “For Masey.” Fitz suddenly lunged at Luke, swinging his fist at him. Luke blocked him, shoving him back against the cement wall. Before Fitz could swing at him again, pain suddenly exploded from his side, electricity coursing through his nerves. He let out a gasping scream as he slowly collapsed to the wet pavement, his muscles seizing violently. His eyes rolled back into his skull, blood and drool oozing from his gasping mouth. 

After a few moments of agony, the pain slowly began to fade. Rain fell onto Fitz’s pale face. He lay limp on the pavement, his eyes closed tightly as he struggled to breath. He heard Luke laugh. Fitz slowly opened his eyes, looking up at the tall man as tears slipped down the sides of his face. “Do we have a deal?” 

 

He could hear music. It was faint, but the thud of the beat was enough to tell him that it was loud enough for a club. The floor under his hands was cold and hard; unforgiving cement. It was dark, the only light coming from a small window in the door. He had only dared to peek through it a few times, seeing a small cement room on the other side with a table and chairs where three men were playing cards. 

One them had blue horns growing out of his shoulders. 

Now, huddled in the corner, his pink hoodie still damp with rainwater and blood, Mason stared at the window in the door. 

_ Where is Fitz?  _

_ Will he be mad at me?  _

_ I was never enough for him…. _

Tears welled up in his eyes. He wasn’t enough. He never helped out around the house, he was always asking for things, always asking for money, always playing around while Fitz worked long hours to keep him fed and clothed. He skipped school, he broke Fitz’s things, he always screamed jokingly whenever Fitz tried to hug him. Why didn’t he just hug him back? 

He doubted that he’d ever hug him again. 

The sound of a heavy door opening made the boy jump. He slowly got to his feet, tip-toeing over to the door. He peered through the window, seeing a tall man approaching the table where the three men sat. He set a taser down on the table. 

“Well?” The horned man asked, cocking his head to the side. The tall man smiled, his head turning to look at the small window. For a moment, his cruel gaze met the boy’s wide eyed gaze. Mason ducked out of sight, his chest rising and falling heavily. 

“He’ll do it.” 


	8. Questions

Rain splattered onto the hovercar as it flew through the cold, grey air, past the towering skyscrapers. Ahead and below of the hovercar was the ‘Suburbs’, tall apartment complexes with their circular windows, grey and miserable. It was crowded here, the narrow streets full of people going about their lives, their eyes cast down on glowing screens. 

If you weren’t among the rich few, you lived here. 

Brian glanced at the GPS again, the address he had found getting closer. It had been easy to find. The teenager working at the arcade in the old mall told him that the sword was given to a group of kids who came in often. 

“I think they are named...something like...John, Smitty, Toby...One of them they call Swagger. There is one more but I can’t remember his name.” The kid had said with a shrug. 

A couple of record searches later, he had everything he needed to find the unlucky boys. Unlucky for him, no one had been home at the first address on his list. He had stood by the buzzer, his eyes on the grey, wet street. He pressed the buzzer a few more times but got no response. He sighed, heading back to his car. He walked past a group of teenage girls dressed in neon and tight, over the knee boots with brightly coloured hair. Their lips were painted with yellows and pinks, blues and blacks. A few of them had tattoos of flowers and strange swirling lines on their wrists and necks. He wondered if they were real or temporary. 

“Heya officer!” One of them called out with a wave. Brian nodded to them before getting back into his car. 

Now, the hovercar was slowly descending onto a quiet street. He parked out front of a small little sandwich shop. It's neon red and blue open sign buzzed loudly. He got out of the car, the small plastic sword wrapped in a clear plastic bag tucked into his coat. He walked up to the apartment door beside the sandwich shop door. He rang the buzzer. He heard the speaker crackle. 

“H-Hello?” A voice called out. 

“Hello. I’m Officer Brian Hanby. I’m looking for Toby?” He heard a faint ‘fuck’ come from the speaker. 

“That’s me.” 

“I have a few questions to ask. May I come in?” 

“A-Alright. I have friends over.” 

“That’s fine.” 

“Okay.” There was a loud buzz as the door unlocked. Brian pulled open the door and hurried up the stairs, his boots thumping on the stairs. He reached the second floor, walking down the hall to unit number 234 and knocked. The door was answered by a short boy with blonde hair, his big eyes looking up at Brian. The officer could see behind him into the dimly lit living room where three boys sat on the couch, their wide eyes on the door. One them was holding an ice pack to his nose. 

“Toby?” 

“Yes.” 

“I just have some questions about last night. May I come in?” Toby nodded, stepping back to let Brian in. Brian glanced around the small apartment before settling his gaze on the four boys. He took a seat on an old leather seat. 

The boys watched his every move. They looked tense, ready to bolt if they had to. 

“Are you looking for Mason?” One of them, a boy with white hair asked. Meeting his gaze, Brian noticed his red and blue coloured eyes. 

_ Contacts.  _

The ring around his iris glowed as he scanned the boy's face, glowing details floating around him. Brian noted that Smitty was the youngest of the group, his gaze shifting over the boys, reading their information that appeared in front of him. 

“I’m sorry...Who is Mason?” Brian asked idly. 

“Our friend!” 

“Did Fitz not go to the police?” 

“Why wouldn’t he?” They all began speaking at once, asking Brian questions he couldn’t answer. He was here for a murder, not a missing persons case. 

“Boys! Please!” Brian said loudly, getting their attention. He reached into his coat for the toy sword, deciding to start with easy questions. “Let me ask a few questions, then I’ll do my best to answer yours? Okay? You aren’t in trouble.” The boys said nothing. Brian held the sword out to them. “Does this belong to you?” 

“I won that!” Smitty cried.

“You gave it to me though!” The boy with the ice pack pressed to his nose pointed out. 

“Swagger was playing around with it the most.” Another boy, one with frizzy bleached hair said. “He put it through a car window.” 

“Snitches get stitches, John.” Swagger snarled. 

“Can you tell me how it ended up on the scene of a murder?” Brian asked as gently as he could. The boys glanced nervously at each other. 

“Well...We were heading home after dinner and...we heard a gunshot. We got freaked out and hid. We saw two young men run past.” Toby explained, fidgeting with his pink sleeve. “We wanted to take off but Mason was curious. He went over to the scene...and we saw the body.” Toby sighed. It was the second time today that he had told this story. “And then this hovercar showed up. These two men got out and they grabbed Mason! Swagger tried to intervene but they punched him. We couldn’t go after them!” 

“Why didn’t you go to the police?” Brian asked calmly. Once more, the boys glanced each other nervously. 

“We...We thought you wouldn’t believe us.” John sighed. “We went to Mason’s guardian. His name is Fitz.” 

“I see.” 

“You gotta help us find Mason! I think it was guys from the Gang that took him!” Smitty cried. Brian’s screen quickly faded as he focused sharply on the white-haired boy. 

“The Gang?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Why would they take Mason?” Brian asked, leaning towards them. 

The boys shrunk back from the officer. 

“I-I dunno...We think maybe they thought he shot the guy but he didn’t! He’s innocent!” Smitty cried desperately. 

“Who shot him then?” Brian asked. The boys went silent. 

“We don’t know.” Swagger said quietly. 

“One of them had lights around his wrists. I saw it.” John said quietly. Brian took another note. 

“Body mods?” 

“I think so. They were red.” 

“What’s your name again?” Brian asked softly. 

“John.” The frizzy-haired boy glanced at Toby who gave him a reassuring smile, his hand reaching for his. John let out a small sigh, his fingers curling around Toby’s hand. Brian leaned back in his seat, looking over the exhausted, rattled group of boys. 

“Thank you for answering my questions…” Brian glanced down at the sword in Swagger’s hands. Rain pattered on the circular glass window. Toby stared at the police officer. Smitty sniffled. Swagger slowly reached for the toy sword on the coffee table, his nervous gaze shifting between Brian and the sword. John leaned his head against Toby's shoulder, closing his eyes. They were all thinking the same thing. 

_ Mason.  _

“Can you help us… Find Mason?” Toby asked. Brian sighed. He was already assigned to the murder case. He doubted he’d have time to look for a missing kid too. He met Toby’s wide-eyed gaze. “Please.” 

“I’ll see what I can do.” Brian stood up, content that this was wrapped up. 

“Please, sir,” Toby said again as Brian walked towards the door. “Someone bad took him. We have to find him.” Brian stopped. He glanced back at Toby and the rest of the boys. 

_ Stay on track.  _

The boys stared at Brian. 

They wouldn’t let him go. 

Brian took a deep breath. 

_ How could I say no to these kids?  _

“Alright. I’ll look for him.” Brian said. The boys smiled brightly. “You said this guy Fitz is his guardian?” Toby nodded. “Where can I find him?” 


	9. Anesthetic

The train car rattled side to side. A white neon light buzzed. On the other side of the small windows lining the train car, the grey cement tunnel wall flashed by. A couple of teenagers in the corner of the train car giggled. An old man sat near the door, an exhausted look on his wrinkled face. A man in a suit with tattoos trailing up his neck stood beside the door, eager to get off the train. His grip tightened on the briefcase in his hand. 

Sitting on one of the old red seats, Evan fidgeted with his long black sleeve. Beside him, Tyler stared out the window, his sharpened knuckles white as he clenched his fists. 

“Keep your head down. There are cameras everywhere. And hide your fucking mods.” Tyler had said before they left, throwing a long black coat at Evan who had rolled his eyes at him. 

“Everyone has mods these days, Tyler. Its weird if you don’t.” Evan said as he pulled on the coat, hiding the lights wrapping around his wrists. 

“I have a mod.”

“You got a surgeon to cut open your skin and sharpen your knuckles. That’s not a mod.” Evan laughed. It was Tyler's turn to roll his eyes. 

“What if I told you I did it awake?” Tyler smiled. “With no anaesthetic.” 

“Bullshit.”

“It’s not.” Tyler smiled. “I don’t like anaesthetics.” 

“Some do.” Evan shrugged. Tyler blinked. Evan rolled his eyes and pushed past him towards the door. 

Now, Tyler was still thinking about Evan’s little comment. The train turned a corner. Evan pressed against the taller boy. Evan smiled, playfully leaning his head on Tyler’s shoulder. 

“Will you stay with me? When the guy you know puts me under?” Evan teased. Tyler rolled his eyes, shoving Evan off.

“Quit it.” 

“Quit what?” 

“You know what. I’m only putting up with your shit because I was there when you thought it’d be a good idea to shoot that guy.” Tyler snarled under his breath, his eyes scanning the quiet train car. “The second we’re in the clear you had better fuck right off to your penthouse and leave me alone.” Evan stared up at Tyler, a flicker of hurt flashing across his face. 

“I saved your life,” Evan whispered. 

“Stop saying that.” Tyler snapped. “You didn’t save anything. We’ll be lucky if we live to the end of the week.” He turned his gaze to the window, watching the grey cement tunnel wall fly past. Evan stared down at the dirty floor. “Why did you say that the Gang is a gentlemen's club?” Tyler asked as the train pulled into a quiet, white neon-lit station.

“They invited me once,” Evan said, his dark eyes on the flickering neon light above him. 

“What?” 

“They invited me to join their club once.” Evan shrugged. “My bank account was what made me the perfect candidate.” 

“Did you say no?” Tyler asked, his bright gaze now back on the young man beside him. Evan said nothing, his dark gaze remaining on the white flickering light as the train doors closed. A moment later, it pulled out of the station, its wheels rattling down the track. “Did you...Did you say yes? Are you a part of the Gang?” Tyler breathed. Evan finally tore his gaze away from the light and looked up at Tyler. 

“I guess...I was a part of the Gang. Don’t think they’ll renew my membership after this.” Evan laughed nervously. 

Tyler resisted the urge to slap him. 

  
  


Rain showered down onto the quiet alleyway. Evan huddled beside Tyler under his large, clear umbrella. They hurried down the alleyway, coming to a stop in front a heavy, spray painted door. 

“This is where your surgeon works?” Evan scoffed. Tyler smiled. 

“He’s the best money can buy.” Tyler knocked twice in the door, then waited a few moments before knocking twice again. Tyler turned to look back at him. The wet air smelled of garbage and piss. Evan rolled his eyes at Tyler. The heavy door suddenly opened. 

“Tyler! It's so nice to see you again!” A man stood in the doorway, a bright smile on his face. The man had a ring around each iris and a few tattoos around his wrists. What was most odd about him though, Evan found, was the sleeping baby in a little backpack strapped to his back. 

“Evan, this is Brock. One of the best surgeons I know. You are in good hands.” Tyler smiled. Evan blinked. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” Brock shook Evan’s hand. The baby stirred in her sleep, her eyes opening for a few moments before closing again. “Come in, come out of the rain.” The surgeon ushered them inside. The front room was a messy office space, a desk and chairs in the corner of the room. Brock lead them past the desk, through a narrow door to a small back room that had been converted into an operating room. A white neon light buzzed on the ceiling. The bed was dressed with white sheets. Beside it was a metal table on wheels, its silver metal top covered with surgical instruments. 

They were incredibly sharp and polished, the silver metal glinting in the harsh white neon light. 

Nervousness settled in Evan’s chest.

He glanced at Tyler who simply pushed him forward. “What are we doing today?” 

“Evan needs his eye screen taken out,” Tyler said, leaning against a counter at the side of the room. Brock turned to look at him, his eyes narrowing. 

“That’s not easy, Tyler. If I screw up he could lose his sight in that eye.” Brock said sharply. He glanced between him and Evan. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.” Tyler snapped. 

“No one gets their eye screen out for no reason.” Brock crossed his arms. The baby cooed softly. Brock reached his hand over his shoulder to gently stroke her forehead. “No one is gonna come after me because of you, right?” 

“You have nothing to fear,” Tyler said. Brock glanced back Evan who was staring at him, his chest rising and falling heavily. Evan looked away from him, struggling to not let his fear escape through the cracks of his facade. 

“Okay. Alright.” Brock sighed. “Take your coat off. Let's get started.” Brock instructed. “This is going to take a while.” Evan pulled off his coat, slowly laying down on the bed as Brock started getting ready. The lights around Evan’s wrists glowed a bright, panicked white. He watched Brock prepare the anesthetic. He closed his eyes as he pressed the needle into his arm. His chest rose and fell heavily. The drug slowly began to ooze through his system. 

“You can do this, right?” Evan stammered.

“Don’t worry,” Brock said softly, stroking his black hair. “You’ll be fine.” Evan nodded, his eyelids starting to droop. Evan swallowed, his mouth feeling dry. He closed his eyes, his chest still rising and falling heavily. He managed to open his eyes again, looking up at Tyler. 

“Count back with me, Evan,” Brock said. “Ten, nine…” Evan looked up at Tyler, who stared at him. 

"A-Aren't you going to leave?" Evan whispered, exhaustion slowly gripping him in her grasp. Tyler stared down at him. 

"Eight...seven...six..." Brock's gentle voice floated over Evan. His eyes began to close. "Five...Four..." Darkness began to smother Evan, dragging him deeper and deeper into unconsciousness. 

"I'm not going anywhere." 


	10. Take Care

Fitz let out a pain filled gasp. Blood and drool dripped from his lips. He struggled to make his way down the narrow street, neon light dancing on the puddles of rain around him. Pain rippled through his body. His muscles had clenched and wouldn’t let go. The watts of electricity that had rushed through him left him feeling like he would collapse and at any moment and never get up. No one offered to help him. They kept their gazes on the wet pavement or the neon store windows. Fitz stumbled down the street, his hands reaching for any support. When they found none he would collapse to the pavement, his knees and palms shredded. Blood dripped to the rainy street. 

He knew where he was. 

He couldn't be far from safety now. 

Fitz staggered around the corner. He let out a cry of relief, his last burst of energy sending him forward. He stumbled up the steps of a small apartment building, frantically ringing the bell. A few moments later, it opened, a young man standing in the doorway, his eyes widening when he saw Fitz. 

"W-What the hell happened to you?" The young man cried. Fitz opened his mouth to answer but a jolt of pain beat him to it. His legs gave out from under him. The man caught him, slowly pulling him inside and out of the rain. 

“M-Mason...they got Mason…” Fitz stammered. “They got Mason, Jay.” 

“Who got him?” The young man stammered. Fitz didn’t answer, the tall boy letting out a cry of pain as he slumped against the wall of the small front hallway. “Bordie!” Jay yelled up the stairs. A few moments later, a pink haired girl dressed in a black dress and neon pink coloured tights appeared at the top of the stairs. Her sparkling eyes widened when she saw Fitz. She hurried down the stairs, helping Jay pull Fitz to his feet. They struggled to help the tall boy up the stairs, his arms resting heavily on their shoulders. 

“What the fuck happened?” Bordie cried when they reached the top of the stairs. The small apartment was dark, lit by an orange lamp. Rain pattered on the window. They laid Fitz down on Jay’s bed, pulling off his damp, heavy black coat and boots. Jay didn’t answer, hurrying to the kitchen to get him a cup of water. Bordie gently stroked Fitz’s curly hair as he let out a whimpering sob, tears spilling down his face. “Shh...You’re okay.” He shook his head. Rain pattered gently on the large circular windows. 

Jay returned to his side, sitting down beside him. He handed Fitz a cup of water, the tall boy taking it with a shaking hand. Most of it dribbled down his chin and soaked his collar but he didn’t care. 

“What happened, Fitz?” Jay asked again, taking the cup from Fitz. The tall boy took a deep, shaking breath. “Who took Mason?” 

“Someone took Mason?” Bordie’s eyes widened. 

“It’s m-my fault…” Fitz sobbed. “I-I didn’t take good enough care of him...I didn’t...I didn’t tell him the truth.” 

“Don’t say that, Fitz-y. It’s not your fault.” Jay said softly. 

“It is! I stole from the Gang! They found out I did it and kidnapped Mason! It’s my fault!” Fitz took a deep breath. “I-I can get him back...but...but there’s no guarantee they are going to keep up their side of the deal.” Fitz couldn’t stop the sobs now. They ripped themselves from his chest. Tears spilt down his face. His nose ran. His hands trembled. He gasped violently for air only for his sobs to force it back out again. Jay wrapped his arm around the tall boy, pulling him into a gentle hug. Fitz cried against his chest. 

“We’ll get him back. Whatever they want you to do...we’ll do it. We’ll get him back.” Jay said softly, rubbing Fitz’s back. Fitz didn’t answer, his eyes closed tightly. Exhaustion dug her claws into him. Tears slipped down his red cheeks. Jay’s gentle hands lulled him into sleep. Rain pattered on to the windows. “We’ll get him back…” 

Later, Fitz awoke only for a moment when Jay pulled the taser’s barb from his shoulder with a pair of tweezers and set it down on the bedside table. Blood soaked into the wood. 

 

Neon light spilt into the small apartment. A hoverbike passed by the windows, it’s white light flashing across the walls. Fitz’s eyes slowly opened, taking in the small room around him. He managed to sit up, taking a deep, heaving breath. He felt like sick, his stomach rolling over. He leaned his head back against the cold wall, his eyes on the window and the flashing neon lights outside. 

A quiet knock at the door pulled his gaze away from the window. Bordie stepped into the room, a bowl with steam rising from it in her hands. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked as she sat down beside him, handing him the warm bowl of broth and noodles. Fitz stared down at it. “You gotta eat something, Fitz.” Bordie sighed. “You can’t starve.” Fitz closed his eyes, his stomach rolling again. 

“I-I’m scared, Bordie...What are they doing to Mason?” 

“Try not to think about that, Fitz. Just think about how we’re gonna get him back.” 

“I can’t not think about it!” Tears stung his eyes. “They could be torturing him because of me! He doesn’t know anything!” 

“Hey…” Bordie gently cupped his cheek in her hand. Fitz stared back at her, his chest rising and falling heavily. “I know it’s scary and it’s hard. All we can do now is work as fast and as hard we can find him. We got your back, Fitz.” Bordie gave him a reassuring smile. Her thumb gently stroked his cheek. Fitz nodded. She and Jay always had his back just like he had theirs. Fitz remembered how Jay was his best friend back in high school but when Mason showed up, he lost contact with him for a little while. 

Then he ran out of money. 

Guilty and ashamed, he had washed up at a bar, the red neon light casting him a vile glow. 

“Hey! I haven’t seen you for a while.” A familiar voice had called out. Fitz had looked up to see his old friend, a smile on his face. Noticing the pain written across his face, Jay took a seat beside Fitz, ordering them another round of drinks and demanded to know everything. After that, everything changed that. Jay got Fitz his first hacking job. "If anything happens, you come to me, alright?" Jay had instructed. Fitz had nodded, nervousness running through him.

   If arrested for it, hacking could land them in prison for life. 

   If caught by a member of the Gang, it could kill them. 

   For Mason, for giving him a happy life without worry, it had been worth the risk up until now. 

Now, Fitz wished that he never told Jay anything. He couldn’t take it back though, no matter how much he wanted to. 

Guilt crushed Fitz. 

It felt like it would break his bones and grind him into a pulp. 

“Fitz…” Bordie’s voice pulled him out of his head. He met her gaze. “We’ll take care of you. We’ll find Mason.” Fitz managed to nod. “Now please, eat something or I will force feed you.” Bordie laughed. Fitz glanced up at her with a smile then did as he was told. The warm broth slid down his throat, bringing heat back into his body. “What is this deal you mentioned?” Bordie asked, leaning against the end of the bed frame, her pink feet by Fitz’s hip. Fitz swallowed as he remembered Luke’s violent words. 

“Someone murdered one of the Gang's racers last night. They want me to kill whoever did it. Once I do that...they’ll give me Mason back.” Fitz sighed, stirring the broth. 

“It can’t be that hard. You just have to find out who did it. Once you have their identity, you find out where they are and if they have any mods. You’ve fried eye screens before. This guy probably has one. You don’t even have to leave the comfort of this apartment to do it.” Bordie shrugged. 

“I don’t think it’s that easy…” Fitz sighed. 

“Why?” Bordie crossed her arms. Fitz opened his mouth to answer her but found himself unable to. “Let’s start with what you know already. Do you know anything about this guy who killed the Gang member?” Fitz took a deep breath, thinking back to what Toby told him and what he had seen at the scene. 

“John said one of them has a mod...lights around his wrists!” Toby had said that morning in the cold living room while Fitz stared at the floor, trying to understand what had happened. Now, Fitz looked back up at Bordie, trying to find the words to explain everything to her.

“There were two men...One of them had a mod. Lights around his wrists.” 

“Sounds expensive,” Bordie whispered. “Hack the records of all the uptown surgeons. One of them did that procedure. They will have the guy’s name on file.” She got off the bed, a smile spreading on her lips. “You take half and I’ll get the other half of them. We’ll find this guy. We'll find Mason.” Bordie pressed a sweet kiss to his forehead, leaving a sparkling glossy mark on his pale skin. She hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. 

Fitz took a deep breath the ring around his iris glowing as his eye screen came into focus. He took another sip from his broth, his eyes moving frantically as he got to work. Glowing words and photos floated in the cold air around him. Rain slid down the circular window. 

_ We’re going to find you... _


	11. Decisions

A low drone filled the office. Outside the tall windows, neon lights flashed. Hovercars flew past. Keyboards clicked. Phones rang. The noise pressed down on Brian, his tie suddenly feeling too tight. His wet coat hung off his chair. In front of him lay the murdered man’s file and photos from the scene. Brian sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“Here is the information on Tyler you asked for, sir.” A young officer said, holding a folder out to him. Brian leaned back in his chair, taking the folder from him. He flipped through the pages, not finding a whole lot. 

_ Orphan, arrested five times for robbery and assault, no known body mods.  _

Brian tossed the folder down onto the desk. Find Tyler was proving to be harder than he'd thought it'd be.

_ Mason.  _

The boy’s worried voice ran through his head. Brian glanced up at his computer screen. He glanced around the office before quickly typing in the boy’s name.  Surprisingly, a few files came up. However, they were about the boy’s parents. Both had been arrested in the past, both had charged the other with assault. The last file was on their boy, Mason. He went missing seven years ago. Police ruled it as a runaway case and stopped looking after a week. Brian’s brow furrowed. He wondered if they were still looking for their boy. 

Should he tell them that he knows where he went seven years ago? 

Brian typed in Fitz’s name. A list of files popped up. 

_ An only child, graduated high school with top honours, attended university for a year before dropping out under unknown circumstances. No known mods but may have been modified by an unlicensed surgeon. Wanted for hacking. Suspicions of murder.  _

Brian stared at the violent word. He took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. If he went looking for Fitz, he’d have to arrest him for hacking. 

If found guilty, he’d spend life in prison. 

Mason would never be found. 

_ The kid is innocent.  _

Who knows what happened at home to make him run away. If Fitz is his guardian, that means he must have taken him in, given him a good home. Brian sighed. The captain would tell him to arrest Fitz. The captain would tell him that Mason is a lost cause. Kids go missing in this city every day; sold or killed for their organs, skinned for the more extreme body mods the rich like to adorn themselves with. His photo would join the many on the board in the front lobby with the question ‘have you seen me?’ floating above it. 

_ Do the right thing.  _

Brian closed the first file and went to the next under Fitz’s name. Words and photos on the screen glowed brightly. They were crime scene photos. A young man was found dead in his home, his right eye melted out of his skull. His eye screen had been fried. It was gruesome sight, bloody and violent. The man had tried to scratch it out before he died. Staring at it, Brian wished he hadn’t had that big sandwich for lunch. Investigators had only been able to get so far in tracking down the hacker that did it but they were able to put together a list of suspects. Fitz’s name was on that list. Brian closed that file and went to the next. A woman was found dead in an alleyway, her eye screen fried just like the first victim. Once more, Fitz’s name was on the list of suspects. The next file was a reported robbery. Security video showed a tall young man in a hood and mask break into the bank and into their ‘vault’ room. One million dollars was reported missing from an account. There were three other reported robberies and Fitz was a suspect in all of them. 

_ Fitz is dangerous... _

Brian stared at the screen and the glowing words. He went back to the first file, staring at Fitz’s photo. He wondered how much money he got from each job. Was it worth killing those people? Brian glanced back down at Tyler’s file. Fitz wasn’t his case right now. He had to find Tyler. 

_ Mason… _

The boy was there that night. Maybe he knows something. What did he see? Why was he taken? Where did they take him? 

“Fuck…” Brian leaned back in his chair, his eyes closing tightly.

Why did this have to be so hard? 

He should forget about Mason and Fitz. 

He had to find Tyler. 

He had to find a murderer. 

Brian sat up, his gaze glancing up at his captain’s door as it opened. The captain was speaking quietly with an older man in a suit. The older man seemed concerned, a look of frustration on his face. Brian watched the two walk away from the office, past the officer’s desks towards the elevator. Brian glanced back at the photo of Mason. He could be in serious trouble if the captain found out that he wasn't doing his job. Every part of Brian told him to forget about Mason and Fitz. Mason was gone and Fitz was someone else's problem. 

_ Do the right thing.  _

Brian looked up at the elevator, watching the doors close on the captain and the older man he was with.Brian's gaze turned back to the photos of Mason and Fitz and their files on his screen. Brian quickly opened a program that searched through the hundreds of cameras that watched the city. The citizens would be in an uproar if they knew how much they were watched by the authorities every day. Brian entered the two names, the A.I. quickly getting to work searching through hundreds of thousands frames and faces. Surprisingly, it took only a few moments for it to start coming up with results, some old, some new. Brian clicked on the newest one, expecting it to be Mason. Instead, he watched the image of the tall hacker stumble down a narrow street. He looked like he was in pain, bruised and battered. 

For once, he wasn't being careful. 

Brian watched him climb the steps of an apartment building and ring the bell, the door being opened by a young man. The two disappeared inside. The short clip replayed again. The officer stared at it. 

_ Do the right thing.  _

The officer suddenly got up, pulling on his damp coat. He reached into the desk drawer, pulling out his gun which he put into the holster on his belt. He turned away from his desk, his eye screen glowing as more images of Mason and Fitz appeared around him. He pressed the elevator button. Brian took a deep breath. 

_ Do the right thing.  _


	12. Killer

The evening sky glowed with man-made stars. Hovercars, bikes and planes flew through the cold rainy air. The city glowed brightly, a cacophony of rainbow neon. It is the city of glory and gore, the home of extreme body mods, as it liked to pride itself on the national stage. Music and voices poured out of shops and restaurants. Malls were packed with people spending money they didn’t have. Even though the sun was setting, the city was still wide awake. 

Fitz’s bright eyes opened slowly.

He stared at the circular window, watching the neon lights flash and the rainfall. He sighed before slowly rolling on to his back. His head turned. His eyes widened. 

“Jesus Christ, Jay!” The boy lay beside him on the bed, his dark eyes watching Fitz’s every move. 

“I like watching you sleep.” Jay giggled. 

“Fuck off!” Fitz threw a pillow at him. Jay laughed, sitting up. 

“Sorry, Jesus.” Jay snickered. “When was the last time you shared a bed with someone? You’re twenty, aren’t you?” Fitz stared up at the ceiling. He didn’t count the few times in the past year that he had gone to those red lit clubs, his money placed on the table beside the red velvet circular bed. The women at the clubs were always gentle with him as if they could sense his nervousness, their kisses on his neck leaving red satin marks, their sharp nails threading through his hair. 

“Shut up.” Fitz rubbed his eyes. 

“Sorry.” Jay rubbed his shoulder. “Bordie found something. You’ll wanna see it.” Jay said before getting up. He left the room, closing the door behind him. Fitz laid in bed for a moment longer, not sure when he fell asleep again. He glanced at the bowl of cold broth on the bedside table, not feeling hungry anymore. He got out of bed, slowly padding over to the door. In the living room, Bordie sat on the couch, her laptop in her lap. She smiled at Fitz as he walked over to them. 

“I got good news and kinda bad news,” Bordie said as Fitz sat down beside Jay on the couch. 

“Just tell me.” 

“So we did a check of the surgeons. I found one who did a light implant a week ago. There were a few others but its a pretty uncommon mod. This guy seems most likely because he was reported missing this afternoon by his father, a very rich gentleman. He said his son has been living on his own for a while now but he normally checks in. Also, his eye screen went dead not long after he was reported missing this afternoon apparently.” 

“Went dead?” 

“Tracker is gone.” 

“Removed?” 

“Possibly.” Bordie turned her screen around, showing them a map. In between the streets was a red dot. “That was the last known location.”

“Where did you get this?”

“Police network.” 

“Jesus, Bordie.” Fitz sighed. “You’re asking to get caught.” 

“I know how to hide my tracks.” She smiled, brushing a strand of pink hair from her face. “Anyways, nearby apparently, is an unlicensed surgeon. You can find his page on the black net. Highly rated. He’d have to be if he’s taking out an eye screen. That’s pretty dicey!” 

“So if he’s successful, we’ll find this guy around here?” Jay asked. 

“Yes. This procedure can take a long time plus the time it takes for the anaesthetic to wear off, he’s not going far today. Bad news is, once he moves, we'll lose him. So we have to act fast.” Bordie explained. “Oh! I should tell you who this guy is exactly." She laughed. Fitz stared at her. Bordie cleared her throat. "As you guessed it, he’s a rich fucking kid. Twenty years old. His name is Evan Fong. Here’s more bad news. He’s a member of the Gang.” 

“The fuck?” Jay’s eyes widened. “Why would he kill a racer then?” 

“He’s an idiot? Who knows. The point is, this is Gang member on Gang member conflict! You got yourself in deep with this one, Fitz.” Bordie shook her head. “He’s also not alone apparently. The top suspect the police have for this murder is a guy named Tyler Wine, the guy racing against the victim before his death. The two fled together so Evan’s not alone meaning that killing him is not going to be easy.” 

“Just need one well-aimed shot.” Jay shrugged. “Won’t even know what happened.” 

“Sure, try that.” Bordie waved her hand at him. Fitz stared at the screen, at the photo of Evan. 

Your fault. 

“I’ve done some deeper looking into Evan. Asked around some other hackers. Did some searching on the black net. Turns out this isn’t the first time he’s killed a guy.” Bordie explained. Fitz’s eyes widened. “One person said they heard that he got jumped one night a few years ago and beat a guy to death with an iron pipe. Last year he apparently went after a hacker who had tried to get into the family vault. Shot him in the head while he was sitting at his desk. The guy never knew what hit him. These are just the confirmed stories...People think he's killed more. Some think that he's acting on the orders of his father. Either way, he's got a lot of blood on his hands.” 

“Violent kid,” Fitz whispered. 

“We’ve found our murderer.” Bordie leaned back her seat. “The police don’t even know he exists other than his missing person report.” 

“So we go after him,” Fitz said, meeting her gaze. Bordie nodded. 

“There was no hovercar or bike seen in the area today. Meaning they either walked or-“

“Took the train,” Jay said quietly. 

“Right. There is a station five minutes away from the surgeon’s office.” 

“An easy walk if you’re carrying someone still drugged up.” Fitz stood up. “If that’s everything let's go. The sooner this is over with, the better. We'll stick together. We're three on two. Separate Evan from the racer and we'll have him. Like Jay said...one quick shot. Then we'll have Mason back..." Bordie and Jay agreed, getting to their feet. Bordie pulled Fitz into a hug. 

“Don’t worry, Fitz-y.” She whispered against his ear. “You’ll have Mason home safe and sound by the morning.” Fitz nodded, moving away from the hug.

They got ready quickly, holstering guns to their belts and pulling on their heavy coats for the rain. They were out the door not much later, Fitz and Bordie standing on the front step as Jay locked the door. Fitz looked up at the sky, watching the rain fall. The cold water on his face felt good. They hurried down the street, their path taking them to the nearest train station. 

Fitz looked back over his shoulder before he turned the corner. He saw nothing but the rain and the neon glow from the few stores that lined the streets. 

The three of them turned the corner. 

A police officer stepped out from under the cover of an overhang. He waited a moment, his blonde hair wet with rainwater. He took a deep breath. The police officer glanced down the street before following in the footsteps of the hacker.


	13. Blood and Bone

 

Evan was dreaming of a white room.

It had no windows, no door.

No bed, no tables, no chairs.

He sat in the corner, dressed all in black. His midnight blue hair fell over his face, his chest rising and falling heavily.

There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to run.

He hugged his knees to his chest, his forehead pressed against his hard kneecaps.

_Bone against bone._

He could hear a rattling, gasping breath. Blood dripped to the white floor. It glowed like neon. It was breath being drawn through a broken nose, a broken jaw, a broken skull.

_Bone against bone._

Evan didn’t dare raise his head. His fingers trembled. The white neon light reflected off his midnight blue hair. His dark eyes focused on the strands of blue in front of his face. Just out focus were two bloody legs, bent backwards. He could see blood dripping to the white floor. He closed his eyes.

_Bone against bone._

Blood dripped down the white walls.

Evan opened his eyes. A harsh white light shone down on his face.

“Hey.” A soft voice said quietly. Evan couldn’t find it’s owner. “Success. Your rich ass can’t be tracked now.”

Tyler.

“Give him a few moments to wake up,” Brock said. Evan heard the clink of metal against metal. He closed his eyes.

_Dad’s gonna kill me…All that money...wasted…_

Evan’s eyes flickered open. He reached up for one of the figures he could see through the light. He felt someone grab his hand and lower it back to the bed.

“I-I’ve never had to...to do something like this…” Evan managed to say. “W-Why did you make me do this?”

“What?” Tyler’s voice found it’s way to Evan through the light.

“Dad always took care of it...Told me to just stay at home for a little while...Wash my hands.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Should have just gone to my dad like before...He said everything would be okay…That I did what I had to...”

“Evan…”

“That’s what you gotta do in the Gang...gotta kill...that’s what they want from you...killing makes the city run...I’m wearing someone else’s skin as bracelets…” Evan laughed. He closed his eyes, feeling Brock gently stroking his hair.

“I’m gonna put a gauze patch over your eye, alright? You can take it off in a few days. Let it heal.” Brock instructed, pretending that he didn’t hear Evan's ramblings. He felt Brock place the gauze over his eye, taping it down to his skin. “Don’t let him take it off.”

“Okay,” Tyler said. He sounded unnerved. He heard the wheels of a stool on the floor and footsteps moving away from him.

“Has he mentioned the Gang before?”

“He told me this morning that he is...was a part of it.”

“Has he told you he’s killed before?”

“No. That’s not my problem though. We got enough to deal with...with this racer he shot.” He heard Tyler sigh. “He just did it...Didn’t even hesitate. It was a clean shot too. It makes so much sense looking back.”

“He's young...Kids don't just decide to start killing. Someone put him up to it...” Brock whispered. “Help him, Tyler. Get him out of the city.” There was a moment of silence. Tyler said something that Evan couldn’t quite make out. Evan let out a loud sigh.

“Are you talking about me?” Evan grumbled. “Fucking assholes are what you are, talking about me.”

“Shut up.” Tyler hissed. He helped Evan sit up, his arm wrapped tight around his shoulders. Evan smiled brightly, leaning his head against Tyler’s chest. Evan glanced back at the white sheet that covered the bed.

Where his head had been was blood.

His blood.

Evan’s stomach rolled violently. He gagged. Tyler’s grip around him tightened.

“Why did you make me do this?” Evan whined. “I want it back! I want my screen back!”

“This is what you’re in for when she starts talking.” Tyler nodded to the baby sleeping on Brock's back. Brock didn't laugh at the joke. He reached for Evan’s hand, uncurling his fist. He placed the eye screen into Evan’s hand. It was a small glass screen with a few tiny wires coming out of the sides. Evan stared down at it.

“There. You can have it back.” Brock said softly. Evan couldn’t take his eyes off it.

_A reward...for protecting your family…_

Evan’s fingers started to curl around it. The glass cut into his skin.

“Hey.” Tyler’s fingers curled around his hand. He took the screen from Evan, placing it into his pocket. “Let’s get you back home.” Tyler helped Evan off the bed and get his coat on. Evan blinked, his one usable eye scanning the room. The baby on Brock’s back slept quietly, her head resting against her father’s back. “Thank you, Brock.”

“You’re welcome.” Brock nodded.

“Come on.” Tyler wrapped his arm around Evan’s shoulders, leading him out of the operating room to the front office.

“Oh, Tyler,” Brock called out as they reached the front door. Tyler turned to look at him. Evan stared at him over his shoulder. “Don’t come back. For our safety. We don’t need any Gang members here.” Brock said sharply. Tyler glanced down at Evan who met his gaze.

“Come on,” Tyler said again. They stepped out of the clinic into the darkening alleyway. The neon lights buzzed. Evan found himself holding on to Tyler, his legs feeling slow and unsteady. “It's not a far walk,” Tyler said softly. Evan nodded. The neon lights around them buzzed. A hovercar passed over heard.

“T-Tyler?”

“What?”

“Do you think I’m a bad person?” Evan asked quietly. Tyler stared at the road ahead of them. Down the street, they could see the train station.

“I think you can be a pain in the ass,” Tyler said after a few moments. “But no...I don’t think you’re a bad person.” Evan smiled, his eye on the pavement.

They kept walking towards the train station. Evan took a deep breath. He was beginning to feel more awake now, more like himself. Tyler kept a firm grip around his waist.

They reached the train station. It was crowded despite the late hour. They passed a tall man standing near the entrance, his eyes on his phone. Evan glanced back over his shoulder, seeing the man pocket his phone and start down the stairs behind them.

Evan’s grip on Tyler tightened.

They reached the platform.

The air felt still.

Standing little ways down the platform was a man with a black mask over his mouth and nose, his eyes on the track.

A police officer descended the stairs behind the tall man, his blue gaze shifting over the crowd of tired commuters.

A young woman stood at the other end of the platform, her pink hair hiding her face from anyone who might look her way.

The tall man tapped his foot on the platform beside Evan.

They could hear the rush of the train as it hurtled through the tunnel. A hot wind rolled around them.

The pink haired girl made eye contact with the tall man. He turned his gaze to the masked man.

The police officer watched the tall man. His gaze slowly shifted to Tyler. His eyes widened.

Evan’s fingernails dug into Tyler.

The train burst out of the tunnel, coming to a stop. The doors slid open. The commuters pushed onto the train. Evan found himself once more stuck standing beside the tall man, his back against the far door.

Evan slowly looked up at the young man standing beside him.

He stared back down at Evan.

His eye screen glowed as he read Evan.

_Hacker._

The ring faded away.

The man slowly reached into his coat, his fingers curling around the cold metal of his gun.

Evan gritted his teeth.

He swung his hand at the man, hitting his wrist sharply before suddenly spinning to knee him hard in the stomach. The man shoved him back.

“Evan!” Tyler yelled. Evan fell against the red pole in the centre of the aisle. He gripped it tightly, catching himself from falling. The man swung his fist at him. Evan blocked the blow, aiming a punch at his jaw. The man grabbed at his arm but Evan was too quick for him. Evan's hands curled around the man's wrist. Evan spun, his back pressed against the man’s chest. He bent forward suddenly and yanked his arm, throwing him over his back.

“Fitz!” The pink haired girl screamed. She jumped over the tall man, lunging at Evan who stepped out of the way, sending her falling into Tyler who shoved her out of the way. Evan turned back in time to see Fitz’s fist coming at him. Pain exploded from his nose. Blood dripped onto the train floor. Evan staggered back, blood splattered on to the train floor. The other people in the train car were staring now, some yelling at them to stop.

The train hurtled around a corner, throwing Fitz off balance. He fell against one of the seats, his eyes locked on Evan who stared back at him. Evan spat blood at him. Fitz’s upper lip curled in disgust. Fitz lunged at Evan. Tyler made a move to stop him only to be grabbed by the masked man who pulled him back from Evan. Tyler hit at his ribs with his elbow.

Fitz lunged at Evan again, gripping his collar as he pinned him against the doors. Evan struggled against his tight grip, kicking at his shins. Fitz punched him again. His ears rang. The tunnel flew past. Neon white light flashed through the windows. Fitz suddenly grit his teeth and pulled Evan off the door, throwing him to the floor of the train. Evan let out a cry of pain. Fitz kicked at his stomach, the forcing throwing him onto his back.

Fitz reached into his coat pocket, his fingers curling around the gun. It glinted in the white neon light as he pulled it out, aiming it at Evan’s head.

Evan stared at the end of the barrel.

_He’s trying to kill me…_

Fitz’s finger tightened on the trigger.

Evan took a deep breath.

_Bone against bone..._

The white neon light flashed.

Tyler suddenly grabbed Fitz’s wrist.

The gunshot rang through the train car.

People screamed.

Evan turned his head to see a dark mark on the floor where the bullet had ricocheted. Evan rolled to his feet and lunged at Fitz. The train turned again, pulling into a station. The doors opened. Evan threw Fitz off the train, sending him crashing into a group of people. Evan stepped off the train, fury coursing through his veins.

“Who the fuck are you?” Evan yelled. He swung at Fitz, his long black coat swirling through the air around him. Fitz dodged out of the way, his grip on his gun still tight. He held it up at Evan again who grabbed his wrist, his nails digging in deep, drawing blood. Fitz yanked his wrist away, the gun falling from his hand to the platform. Fitz let out a cry of pain, blood dripping from his wrist to the platform. Evan lunged at Fitz, grabbing his collar and shoved him against the hard cement wall by the stairs. The sound a police whistle rang through the platform. “Who the fuck are you?” Evan spat blood onto Fitz’s face. Hot red light from the lights around his wrists shone on Fitz's face. Fitz stared back at him, his eyes wide. “You’re not a Gang member…”

“They got my boy…” Fitz whispered. Evan’s brow furrowed.

“So?” Evan snarled. A look of hurt and disgust flickered across Fitz’s face. “You’re their tool cause they got your kid? Why don't you go after them?” Fitz stammered for words. Evan glanced back over his shoulder. Tyler stood on the platform, his wide eyes on the direction the police whistle came from. The pink haired girl stood by the masked man who was bleeding heavily through his mask. Tyler’s sharpened knuckles had hit home. Evan’s gaze fixed back on Fitz. “Touch that gun again and I’ll break you like a tool.” Slowly, Evan let go of Fitz.

He turned back to Tyler.

“Bordie don’t!” Fitz suddenly yelled.

Evan’s gaze flickered over to the pink haired girl as she lunged for Fitz’s fallen gun.

Tyler lunged for her.

Evan dropped to his knees as Bordie pulled the trigger.

The bullet whizzed over his head and struck the wall beside Fitz, pieces of cement flying through the air. Fitz let out a scream of pain, blood seeping from his arm where the bullet had grazed him.

_Hackers can’t fucking aim…_

Evan got to his feet, lunging at Bordie who held the gun up towards him. Evan hit her wrist hard, her grip loosening on the gun. Bordie aimed a sharp kick at his side, her sharp-toed boot finding it’s target in his sore ribs. Evan gasped, dropping down to one knee. Tyler started towards Bordie only for the masked man to once more grab him, blood smearing onto his coat.

Fitz suddenly tackled Evan, throwing him down onto the platform, his head hitting the hard dull spikes that filled the yellow line at the edge of the platform. Evan hit at Fitz, trying to throw him off. Fitz’s hot fingers curled around Evan’s throat, squeezing the little air he had from his lungs. Evan reached his hand up, clawing at Fitz’s face. The lights around his wrists flashed; a bright, panicked white glow shining on Fitz's bloodied face. “Bordie!” Fitz screamed. “Shoot him! Shoot him!”

The pink haired girl held up the gun, aiming it at Evan’s head.

The police whistle got louder.

The sound of the next train rushing through the tunnel brought with it a hot wind that filled the station.

Blood dripped down Fitz's arm.

Evan gasped for air, his hand pressed hard against Fitz’s face.

Fitz’s grip on his throat tightened.

The police whistle rang through the air.

Bordie suddenly lowered the gun, her sparkling eyes widening.

“Fitz!”

A sudden force threw Fitz off Evan and down onto the platform. Evan gasped wildly for air, his one-eyed gaze flashing to Tyler, watching him punch the masked man before scrambling to his feet, running for Evan.

“Get off me! I’m not who you want!” Fitz screamed. Evan turned his head, his gaze landing on a blonde police officer as he managed to cuff Fitz's hands behind his back.

"He didn't do anything! Let him go!" Bordie yelled at the officer. "Let him go!" The masked man grabbed her arm, pulling her into the crowd. The two disappeared into the masses.

Fitz let out a cry of pain.

“Get off me!”

Tyler pulled Evan to his feet. The officer turned at the flash of movement.

“Hey! You!” The police officer yelled. Tyler grabbed Evan’s wrist, the two running towards the stairs. The officer scrambled to his feet, running after them. Evan looked back as they turned the corner, disappearing into the frantic crowd. The officer stood at the top of the stairs, his jaw clenched. Evan held onto Tyler's hand as they escaped into the neon city. He didn't dare look back again until his feet were sore and his lungs burned.


	14. Doing the Right Thing

Darkness hung over the small room. A pair of wide eyes stared at the heavy metal door from the corner of the room. The faint thud of music and voices found its way into the room through the cracks in the ceiling. A wet, musty smell hovered in the cold air. 

Huddled in his stained pink hoodie, his jeans dirty and tattered, Mason waited. 

He waited for what felt like hours. With his arms wrapped tightly around his legs, his chin against his kneecaps, he waited. Over and over, his image of what was to come played in his head. The image of finding Fitz replayed over and over in his head. 

_ Where are you? Are you looking for me?  _

Mason let himself close his eyes for a moment. He thought about how long he had been down here. 

A few hours? 

A day? 

A week? 

No, he decided. It couldn’t have been a week. He’d be dead if it had been a week. 

Mason opened his eyes.

He heard something. 

Metal on metal. 

His eyes widened. 

The lock clicked. 

The door opened. 

“Alright you brat,” A harsh voice called out. Mason got to his feet. He stared at the open doorway and the light that spilt through it. “Come here.” The man in the doorway snapped. Mason slowly took a few steps towards the door. His heart raced. The man held a bowl to him. A lukewarm broth filled it. There wasn’t a spoon. “Go on. Ungrateful bastard.” The man spat. Mason took the bowl from the man. Mason looked up at him. The man rolled his eyes. 

Mason suddenly threw the bowl at the man, broth soaking through his clothes and splattering onto the walls and floor. “Fucking Christ!” The man yelled as Mason sprinted past him. Mason bolted past the table where he had seen them playing cards before, where a taser rested on the table top. He saw a door at the end of the room. He ran towards it, pushing it open. He burst into an underground garage. His heart pounded as he ran past hovercars and bikes, his chest rising and falling heavily. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Mason breathed. 

“Get back here!” The man roared. Mason ducked behind one of the hovercars, catching his breath. He closed his head, running over his plan again. 

_ Get out.  _

_ Find Fitz.  _

There were a few holes in that plan but it had gotten him this far. He closed his eyes, imagining Fitz and his warm smile, imagining how everything would be again soon. They would take the train in the downtown part of the city. Fitz would get them dinner and bubble tea and Mason would get jellies because he hates the bobas but he'd still have a sip from Fitz’s drink. They would go see a movie, they’d get home late but that would be okay...because everything would be okay. 

_ Get out.  _

_ Find Fitz.  _

Mason glanced over the hovercar. He could see the broth soaked man move through the cars, a baton in his hand now. The door opened, another baton armed man stepping into the garage. 

“Where’d you go little boy?” The second called out with a giggle. Mason ducked back down behind the car. 

_ Get out.  _

_ Find Fitz.  _

He took a deep breath before pushing himself away from the car, sprinting towards the other end of the garage. 

“Hey!” The harsh voice called out. Mason quickened his pace, looking back over his shoulder. The two men sprinted after him, the buzzing white neon light glinting on their batons. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Mason could see the door now. He could see the way out. 

_ Get out.  _

His lungs burned. His muscles screamed. 

_ Find Fitz.  _

He reached for the door handle. 

_ Get out.  _

“You fucking brat!” The voice screamed right behind Mason. 

_ Find Fitz.  _

A baton came down on Mason’s shoulder, the force throwing him down onto the hard pavement. He let out a cry of pain, curling into a ball as the baton came down on him. 

_ Get out.  _

_ Find Fitz… _

 

The police car sat parked in the dark alleyway. A pink neon light buzzed outside. Brian stared ahead. He let his eyes glance in the rearview mirror at the hacker that sat handcuffed in the back seat, a look of fury and pain written across his blood-splattered face. His arm bled onto the back seat. Fitz had screamed at him the whole way back to the car, fighting against the officer and the cuffs that held him. Now, he was dead silent. 

“Fitz, right?” Brian finally asked. Fitz slowly turned his head to glare at the officer. 

“Are you taking me in or what? I’m gonna fucking bleed out back here if you don’t.” Fitz spat. 

“That depends on you,” Brian said quietly, his eyes on his keys in his hand. Fitz’s brow furrowed. 

“What depends on fucking what, mate? Me bleeding out back here?” Fitz yelled, pulling at the handcuffs that bound his wrists. 

“No, idiot. If I take you in or not. You can answer some of my questions...help me and in return, I’ll help you. If not, I’ll take you in and you could be looking at life in prison. The choice is yours.” Brian explained, turning in his seat to face Fitz through the black bars that separated them. 

“You know, I had an idea of police officers before this. Thank you for confirming it.” Fitz sneered.

“When did Mason go missing, Fitz?” The hacker leaned back in his seat, his look of anger falling momentarily from his face. “Why were you going after Tyler and that guy he was with? Why were you trying to kill him?” Brian asked. Fitz stared at him. He blinked. “You aren’t being recorded. My car is off and so is my eye screen.” Brian said firmly. “I’m just trying to do the right thing.” 

“The right thing?” Fitz laughed. “Mate, you arrested me and not a fucking murderer.” 

“I did arrest a murderer,” Brian said sharply. He reached into his coat, pulling out copies of the crime scene photos he had seen in Fitz’s file. Fitz's face drained of colour as he stared at the bodies, their right eye melted out of their skulls. “Look familiar?” Brian asked. Fitz met Brian’s gaze. Brian tossed the photos down onto the seat beside him. “However, you are no Gang member. You aren’t my case. My case is Tyler and that guy-“ 

“Evan,” Fitz said sharply. 

“Evan?” 

“Yup.” 

“My case is Tyler and Evan. They committed a murder last night. And the Gang wants them dead. That means I’m not really doing my job. I’m not really helping anyone. I’m just delivering them to the Gang who will then kill them. This city has the highest violent death rate in the country. Police officers aren’t doing their job.” Brian sighed. “We’re killers too.” 

“So what do you want with me?” Fitz snapped. 

“I want to arrest Evan and Tyler and have them behind bars. I want to rescue Mason.” Brian said sharply. Fitz stared at him. “I found out about him through his friends. They left their arcade game winnings at the crime scene. They told me about Mason.” Brian explained. “Look, we can work together. I’ll do what I can to lessen your sentence...Fuck, I’ll let you go. Pretend I never knew about you. I just want to do something good for once, Fitz. Will you help me do that?” 

“You aren’t doing anything good by working with me.” Fitz sighed, his gaze lowering to the floor. “Like you said. I’m a killer just like Evan is. By letting me go...you’re doing the wrong thing.” In the pink neon glow, Brian could see Fitz’s eyes well up with tears. 

"Why were you going after Evan, Fitz?" Brian asked softly. Fitz took a deep breath. 

“T-The Gang took Mason...they told me...that if I kill Evan...they’ll give me Mason back…It’s all just a huge fucking mess. If I hadn’t...hadn’t…” Fitz caught himself, still unsure of what he could get away with saying to Brian. Fitz let out a sob, his eyes on the rain dripping down the window. The cuffs around his hands glinted in the pink neon light. “They knew I’d do it...They knew I’d listen to them...Because I’d do anything for Mason...Any parent would do anything for their kids...I’m not really his parent...but I feel like it...I love him and I need to get him back.” Fitz’s voice broke. He met Brian’s gaze, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Who knows what they could be doing to him?” 

“They could be torturing him...starving him, filling his head with lies....” Brian listed the horrible thoughts off on his fingers. Fitz’s upper lip curled in disgust and anger. 

_ Good...Get angry... _

“Shut up.” 

“They could be cutting a finger off for each day you’ve failed to bring them Evan’s head. They could be preparing to kill him and skin him like a dead deer for the body mods uptown. They could be-” 

“Shut the fuck up!” Fitz yelled. “Shut the fuck right now or I swear to fucking god…” Fitz snarled. Brian stared back at him through the bars. Rain dripped down the windows. 

“I’m not doing those things to him,” Brian said calmly. “The Gang is. I want to do something about it. Let me help you find Mason.” Brian insisted. “And along the way, we’ll arrest those who took him. We’ll arrest Evan and Tyler. Let’s do something good for once. Let's do the right thing.” Brian gave Fitz a reassuring smile. The hacker stared at him, his jaw clenched. “What do you say?” 


	15. More Human

The white neon bathroom glowed and buzzed. Tyler stared at his reflection in the small, dirty mirror. He looked down at his bruised, sharpened knuckles. 

“This gonna hurt…” Brock had said quietly. “Are you sure you don’t want to be put under?” 

“Fucking do it, Brock.” Tyler had spat through gritted teeth. 

“You don’t have to prove anything to me, Tyler,” Brock said under his breath. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone…” Tyler hissed as the scalpel cut open his skin. "Not even yourself..." 

Now, Tyler ran a hand through his blond hair. He turned away from the mirror, stepping into the small room that was both a living room and a kitchen, a front hall and a bedroom. The white neon light behind him flickered out. Rain pattered on the large circular window. He grabbed his coat and left the apartment, walking into the dark hallway. He headed to the stairs and up to the roof, pushing open the heavy metal door. He stepped out into the rain.

Sitting by the edge of the roof, his black collar popped up against the rain, dried blood sticking to his lips and chin, Evan watched the neon city around them. Voices from ads projected onto the sides of buildings eerily floated up to the roof, their haunting tones telling tall tales of sodas and new hovercars.

In Evan's hand was a smouldering cigarette. 

Tyler watched him take a drag and exhale, blue smoke oozing from his mouth and nostrils. The lights around his wrists glowed a melancholy blue. Evan looked up at Tyler as he sat down beside him. A gentle rain fell. 

“Long day…” Tyler sighed. Evan rolled his eyes and took another drag. They had taken the long way home, glancing over their shoulders and around corners the whole way. Neither said a word till they got to the apartment. “You fought well,” Tyler said quietly. “I didn’t think you had it in you.” Evan exhaled, smoke swirling around him through the wet, cold air. His one eye stared at Tyler, the other hidden away under the patch. “I used to fight a lot before I got into racing...How I made my money.” Tyler said, curling and uncurling his fists. Evan glanced down at his hands then back up at Tyler. “I thought it’d be fun at first...like you see in the movies. Beating the shit out of a guy...making him bleed...making him fear you...I was right. It was fun. Even when I lost...it was fun. It’s still fun. But it's not the same kind of adrenaline fun you see in the movies...it's...rawer than that. It's addictive...” Tyler breathed. Evan’s dark gaze shifted to the city, the cigarette between his lips. Tyler watched him inhale the smoke and blow it back out, watched the smoke disappear into the cold air. “Is it fun to kill, Evan?” Evan closed his eyes. 

“Tyler…” 

“I want to know.” Evan slowly turned his head to look at Tyler. 

“Do you want my honest answer or the answer I tell people and myself to feel better?” Evan breathed. 

“Be honest with me,” Tyler said. Evan took another drag. 

“The first time wasn’t planned...This guy came at me. Wanted to rob me...Wanted to hurt me. He had thrown me down onto the pavement. Cut my knees and hands open. He was gonna pin me down when I saw this pipe...On the ground next to me. I grabbed it and hit him with it. He hit the pavement hard. Then this...rage came over me. I got up, put my foot on his chest and started beating his head with this pipe.” Evan stared at the glowing city. “I thought...this is what you get for trying to hurt me. This is what you get for being scum. This is what you get…” Evan took another drag. His hand was shaking. “Death is what he deserved. So yes, Tyler. At the moment...It was fun. And afterwards walking home...I felt good because I was alive and he was dead. It could have easily been the opposite. I felt more alive than I ever have...” Evan breathed. “I got home and dad saw me covered in blood...I thought he’d be pissed, you know...Instead, he was proud. Said he’d make a Gang member of me yet…” Evan took a drag, not wanting to look up at Tyler. “The second time...My dad put a gun in my hand and told me that a hacker had tried to steal from us. He told me to exterminate the pest. So I tracked him down. Broke into his apartment. Found him sitting at his desk. I stood there for a little while, just trying to work myself up to pull the trigger...I finally did it. The bullet went clean through his skull and broke his screen. Blood everywhere. His skull...all that bone…” Evan swallowed nervously. 

_ Bone against bone. _

His shaking hand brought the cigarette to his lips again. “I did a few more killings like that...but I was told to go after people who were targeting the Gang. After the third one, they sent me an invite. I was so happy.” Evan smiled, blowing smoke from his nostrils. “I was untouchable after that. All that money, that power. Makes you feel like a God.” Droplets of water soaked his midnight blue hair. In the wet neon glow, his eyes looked teary, his hands shaking. Tyler stared at him. “They make new members kill...Do their dirty work...They make you heartless.” Evan laughed. “They cut my heart out, Tyler...There is nothing left of it...They left it sitting in a cold metal trey...left it to rot.” 

"A plastic heart...Is that what you have now?" Tyler couldn't help but laugh. Evan rolled his eyes.

“I don’t care what it is anymore...I could die tomorrow and I wouldn’t care.” Evan took a drag from his cigarette. He blew out the smoke a moment later with a shaky breath. “Maybe we’ve finally figured out the perfect mod...We’ve figured out to remove our emotions. Take a life...No anaesthetic needed.” Evan laughed again. "Perfect for you. You don't like anaesthetic." Tyler blinked. Evan looked back at the city. His cigarette smouldered, smoke billowing around him. “I’m not human anymore, Tyler. I’m a robot. Look at me. I glow!” He held up his wrist. The blue had changed to a vile yellow colour that glowed through his skin. 

The images he had seen in school of the buboes that covered plague victims flesh crossed Tyler’s mind. 

"You're right...You're not human." Tyler whispered. Evan blinked. "What did you expect would happen when you started killing those people? That'd you would turn into an angel?" 

"I know what I am, Tyler. Do you know what you are?" Evan breathed. The two stared at each other, neither daring to blink. A hoverbike passed overhead. Smoke swirled between the two. Finally, Evan looked away from Tyler. "Whatever...When this over, I'll be gone and you won't have to think about it anymore." Evan spat. Tyler glanced down at the neon road below. Evan took another drag from his cigarette. “Fitz said they took his boy...He’s working for the Gang…” Evan said, lost in thought. “The Gang is coming after us...So why don’t we go after them?” Evan turned his head, looking at Tyler. 

“What do you mean?” 

“They won’t expect it. They won’t see us coming. They expect us to be running and hiding. What if we turned around and shot them right between the eyes?” Evan’s eyes lit up. “Give them a little taste of their own medicine.” 

“Evan...We’re two against some of the most powerful people in the city. They’ll kill us.” 

“Do I look like I care?” Evan spat. 

“I do.” Tyler sighed. 

“We’ll be careful about it. Smart. They won’t know it was us until too late.” Evan smiled. “Come on, Tyler. You owe me one.” Evan winked. 

“Okay. Fine. But if it gets too much...We back out. Lower our heads again.” Tyler insisted. Evan nodded. “What about Fitz?” 

“What about him?” 

“What if he comes after us again?” 

“I’ll kill him too if he tries that shit again,” Evan said calmly as he put out his cigarette. Tyler watched the killer get up, his hands stuffed into his pocket as he walked towards the door. It was raining harder now. 

“Evan,” Tyler called out. The boy turned to look at him. “Why did you save my life?” Evan smiled. He glanced up at the dark sky and the hover cars flying overhead. Rain fell onto his pale skin. The lights around his wrists glowed a soft pink shade. He turned his gaze back to Tyler. "Maybe I was wrong..." Tyler said. "Maybe you are human." Evan turned away from Tyler, pulling open the heavy metal door. It slammed behind him. "More human than any of us..." 


	16. Push

The white neon light hanging from the ceiling buzzed and flickered. Blood dripped onto the white porcelain rim of the bathtub. Resting on the edge of the tub, a needle and bloody thread glinted in the white neon light. Pale fingers clutched the porcelain edge. Tears fell to the white tiled floor like the rain falling onto the pavement outside. The sound of quiet heaving breaths and rattling sobs filled the bathroom. The stinging smell of rubbing alcohol wafted from the bottle and the cotton swabs on the floor by the tub. 

Fitz’s fingers clutched the edge of the tub. Tears spilt down his cheeks and dripped to the floor. The sobs had come and he couldn’t stop them. 

_ Mason...Mason...Mason… _

Fitz let out a coughing sob, his head slowly lifting to look up at the ceiling and the flickering white rod of neon light. Tears slipped down his cheeks and fell to his bare shoulders and chest. His arm was caked with blood. The pain of trying to stitch his arm was too much for him. The slick needle had fallen from his trembling bloody fingers. He couldn’t do anything right. Couldn’t kill Evan, couldn’t fight Luke, couldn’t protect Mason.     

_ Not enough...Not enough...Not Enough _

Fitz’s shoulders shook with sobs that ripped themselves from his chest.

His heart ached. 

He couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t stop the waves of agony that crashed over him. They drowned him in their cruel embrace. Fitz gasped for air in between sobs, mumbling a combination of the words ‘I’m so sorry’ and Mason’s name. 

His watery gaze slowly turned to the needle resting on the edge of the tub beside him. He stared at the drops of his blood on the tub and floor. 

_ My blood… _

His trembling fingers reached for the sharp needle.

A knock at the door made him jump. 

“Fitz? Are you okay?” The police officer called out.  Fitz closed his eyes. For a moment, he had forgotten where he was, that the officer was just on the other side of the door. He had nervously followed the officer up the stairs and into his large apartment. It looked modern but it was an old building, the floorboards creaking under their feet. The kitchen was spotless, the black marble countertops glinting in the neon light coming through the large circular windows. Brian had shown him to the spare bedroom, giving him the supplies to stitch up his arm. 

“F-Fine...I’m fine,” Fitz said now, struggling to keep his voice from breaking. He heard Brian sigh. 

“Can I come in?” Brian asked. Fitz rubbed at his eyes with the palm of his hand, blood smearing onto his cheeks. 

“Yea sure…” The door opened. Brian stared at Fitz for a moment. Fitz couldn’t meet the officer’s gaze. Brian grabbed a cloth from the rack and ran it under the sink tap, steam rising from the warm water. Brian knelt down in front of the tall boy, wiping his face clean of blood. “When was the last time someone took care of you...hmm?” Brian asked softly. Fitz said nothing. He closed his eyes, relishing the warm, soft feeling of the cloth on his face. Brian stood up, rinsing the cloth before kneeling back down to clean the wound on his arm. “You haven’t stitched it yet.” 

“It hurts…” 

“I know. Can I help?” Brian asked softly. Fitz looked down at him. He took in his bright eyes and soft hair, the gentle expression on his face that told him that everything would be okay. Slowly, Fitz nodded. Brian smiled, quickly getting to work. “This is going to sting,” Brian said, his eyes on the torn flesh. Fitz closed his eyes as the needle pierced through his skin, the string pulling the flesh back together again. “Can I ask you something, Fitz?” Brian asked, his gaze never moving from the needle and thread. 

“Shoot.” 

“Why did you kill those people? I know someone hired you to do it...but you could have said no.” Brian glanced up at Fitz who had closed his eyes again tightly. 

“Will anything I say be held against me?” Fitz asked. He opened his eyes to look at Brian who smiled. 

“Don’t worry. I had to tell the captain something so I told him I just lost Tyler. Said he got caught up in a fight when someone tried to steal from another guy on the train. I got thoroughly yelled at for losing Tyler but...as far as the captain knows, you and Mason aren’t a part of this.” Brian explained, threading the needle through Fitz’s flesh again. Fitz grit his teeth. 

“T-Thank you…” Fitz whispered. Brian paused, looking up at him. Fitz met his gaze. The two stared at each other for another moment before quickly looking away. Fitz took a deep breath. “I did it for Mason…” He said softly. “I have to support him. Keep him feed. Keep him happy. They pay better for...for those kinds of jobs.” Fitz looked down at the tiled floor. “I did one while out for dinner with Mason. Told him I was going to the bathroom. I slipped into one of the storage rooms and did it through my eye screen. I heard…” Fitz’s voice broke. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I heard her start screaming...I-I had to go back to that table...and pretend that I was happy. That was the worst thing I’ve ever done to Mason. I should have told him the truth...Should never have pretended to be happy...You know that cliche where officers ask the murderer how they sleep at night?” Fitz turned his head to look down at Brian who nodded. “I barely sleep...I just lie there and think about...those screams. It's what I deserve...I may as well have been feeding Mason blood and guts this whole time...” Fitz breathed. Brian leaned back, pulling the string tight and tied a knot. He set the bloody needle down on the edge of the tub as he leaned his side against the white wall beside him. 

“I can’t tell you what you deserve and what you don’t...But I can tell you that to Mason...You are the greatest person in the whole world. There is nothing you can’t do and you’ll never do it wrong. That’s what matters most. That you find him and bring him home. That you continue being the best you can be for this boy.” Brian said, his eyes searching Fitz’s pained face. Fitz slowly nodded. “I think...I think you are a good person too, Fitz....” Brian added. Fitz turned his head to look at Brian. The hacker looked over the officer, taking in his soft expression and his blood on his fingers. Fitz met his gaze. “You’re sad. You’re stressed. You’re scared.” Brian said, reaching for Fitz’s hand. Instinctively, Fitz pulled away from him. Brian wasn’t hurt by it; he leaned back, giving Fitz his space. “Is there anything I can do to help take that weight off you, even for a moment?” Fitz found himself unable to look away from Brian’s soft gaze. 

When was the last time anyone had looked at him like that? 

Fitz’s mind wandered. 

What could make it better? Even for just a little bit? 

_ Air.  _

Fitz took a deep breath, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

 

“Where did you even get this?” Brian called out through the rain. 

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” Fitz laughed, adjusting the straps of the heavy pack on his back. He turned to look back at Brian, a smile on his face. “I’m kidding. There's a place you can get to through one of the abandoned subway train stations. It’s a big market for illegal stuff.” Fitz explained. Brian nodded, resisting the urge to note that down. He walked over to the edge of the apartment where Fitz stood, his eyes on the dark sky filled with man-made stars above them. 

They had taken Brian’s car over to Fitz’s apartment, the officer nervously following the hacker inside. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find in the hacker’s apartment, but what he found wasn’t it. It simply looked the like home of a parent and his boy. There was a photo on the table by the couch of Fitz and Mason, the frame around it glowing a soft neon pink shade. Brian had put it back down on the table before Fitz came back out of his room with the jetpack. 

Fitz had been nervous to come back. Something told him that the place was being watched. He had dared to peek into Mason’s room, for a moment thinking that he’d be there, but it was dark and just as he had left it. 

Now, standing on the edge of the roof, the heavy pack on his shoulders, he forced himself to push the image of the empty room from his mind just for a little bit. Fitz turned to Brian, his hands starting to tremble. “I’m not being a bad...a bad parent by doing this right? I should be working to find him. I should be-” 

“Fitz...Deep breaths.” Brian said softly. “You can’t do anything when you can’t think straight, when you are wallowing. Clear your head.” Brian gave him a reassuring smile. Fitz nodded. “Go fly.” Fitz looked back up at the sky, rain falling onto his face and soaking his blonde curls. He looked back at Brian. His feet were right at the edge of the building, his heel barely on the cement. 

“Push me.” Fitz breathed. Brian’s brow furrowed. 

“What?” 

“Push me.” Fitz insisted. “Come on. I trust you.” Fitz smiled. Brian’s eyes widened. Hesitantly, he placed his hands on Fitz’s shoulders, his eyes locked onto Fitz’s. The officer took a deep breath and shoved the tall boy. 

Fitz fell backwards, the cold air whipping around him. 

Neon lights flew past. 

Rain showered down through the air. 

Fitz closed his eyes. 

He could keep falling. 

He could let himself hit the pavement. 

He could keep falling. 

He could escape all of this. 

_ Mason.  _

Fitz’s thumb pressed down on the button. Heat rushed from the pack as it’s sudden force propelled Fitz back up into the air, smoke following his path. Brian laughed as he shot up past him into the sky. Fitz spread his arms, feeling the cold air between his fingers as he went higher and higher, past hovercars and bikes. 

Once above the traffic and the noise, he let go of the propulsion, letting himself hang in the air. He floated as if on water. Below, the city roared and flash with neon. Fitz closed his eyes, feeling the rain fall onto his face and hands, his black coat fluttering around him. He suddenly curled his hands into fists as he opened his eyes, looking down at the city. 

A scream ripped itself from his chest. It was a scream of anger, a scream of pain. Tears slipped down his cheeks and fell to the earth below, lost in the rain. Fitz couldn’t stop screaming nor did he want to. It felt good. He screamed at himself, at the people who took Mason, at Evan and Tyler, at the city below that had turned into a nightmare. 

When he finally stopped, when the last of the air he had in him was gone, he slumped back on the pack, his eyes on the sky above him. He heaved for air, tears and rain dripping down his face. 

Slowly, he began his descent back down to the city and the officer who waited for him. Brian reached his hand up towards him. Fitz took his hand, stumbling onto the roof. Brian caught him, his arms wrapped around him tightly. Fitz laughed, leaning against Brian as he embraced him. They let go of each other, their eyes meeting each other. A nervous, fluttery laugh escaped their lips. Awkwardly, Fitz stepped away from Brian, the two still giggling. 

“Better?” Brian asked, his bright eyes searching Fitz’s face. Fitz nodded, still catching his breath. 

“Better…” Fitz reached for Brian’s hand, holding it tightly. “T-Thank you…” 


	17. Black and Gold

“Where are we going, Evan?” Tyler’s voice carried through the crowd of morning commuters clogging up the sidewalk. Rain pattered down onto their umbrellas. The smell of coffee, smoke and garbage filled the crisp morning air. Sounds of traffic and voices floated around them. Hovercars sped overhead. Hoverbikes flew dangerously among cars. Just ahead of Tyler, the short raven-haired boy pushed through the crowd, his long black coat billowing around him. He had woken Tyler up not that long ago with a cup of cold water thrown into his face. “What the fuck?” Tyler had screamed at him. He threw the sopping wet pillow at Evan.

“Get up. We’re going shopping.” Evan had said casually, his eyes on the now empty cup in his hand.

“Why?” Tyler snapped.

“There is a Gang party tonight. We're gonna be there.” Evan held up his phone, the clear screen glowing in his hand.

“Why haven’t you gotten rid of that yet? That can be tracked just as easily as an eye screen!” Tyler cried.

“Let them find me.” Evan snapped.

“Fucking psychopath…” Tyler muttered as he sat up. "Get rid of it, Evan."

“Besides. You took away my eye screen.” Evan said, pretending he hadn’t heard Tyler’s comment. “I’m not letting you take my phone.”

“Fuck sakes…” Tyler muttered.

“Come on! Get up,” Evan said again. “Let's go!”

Now, Tyler had no choice but to follow Evan who pushed his way through the tired crowds. He hadn’t even let him stop to get breakfast. “You can eat there.” Evan had promised him. Ignoring his grumbling stomach, he followed after the raven-haired boy as he turned the corner onto a quiet, narrow street. His boots splashed through puddles in the old broken pavement. Evan walked up to a tall door cut into a large wood board over what looked like an old entrance to a train station. He knocked twice then paused then knocked four times rapidly. A moment later, a slit in the door opened. A pair of eyes peered through the slit at them. The door opened a moment later. Evan gave Tyler a smile before stepping inside. Tyler nervously followed. From the dark he could see the doorman, a young boy dressed all in black with a large hood over his head.

“Where are we?” Tyler whispered as they walked down a long hallway illuminated with a dark red neon light.

“The market,” Evan answered. “Everything you could want that you can’t normally get out there. It operates separately from the Gang but they are trying to change that. For now, all you need to know is the knock and you can come and go. No one cares so long as you have money...and you aren't a police officer," Evan said as they reached the top of a tall escalator that had long ago stopped working.

“What are we getting here?” Tyler asked hesitantly as they walked down the stairs, their boots clicking on the metal. Evan didn’t answer him. They reached the bottom of the escalator. The sweet and savoury smells of food wafted down the long hall, making Tyler’s stomach grumble again. They could hear voices and music, could hear the calls of wild animals that Tyler had never heard before. They turned the corner, coming to a large hall where rows of vendors argued with customers over prices or cooked their goods. Smoke from cigarettes, vapes and stovetops filled the air. They passed by tables selling everything from drug paraphernalia to real chocolate which Tyler had never seen let alone eaten.

“Do you want some?” Evan asked when he saw Tyler eyeing the candy.

“I heard it can kill you,” Tyler said. “That’s why chocolate disappeared.”

“No.” Evan laughed. “Its cause we ate too much of it. The rarer it is, the more expensive...” Evan picked up one of the larger bags and paid for it before handing the bag of sweets to Tyler. “Enjoy.” Evan smiled. Tyler hesitantly opened the bag, smelling the chocolate. The fake stuff sold now didn’t quite smell like it; fake chocolate had a stinging chemical scent but it still tasted sweet. He took a bite of one of the pieces, the sweet taste filling his mouth. It melted on his tongue.

“Oh my God…” Tyler moaned through a mouthful of chocolate. Like a child, he followed Evan through the rows of vendors. They passed a vendor selling high powered guns across from another selling gems and crystals for jewellery which Tyler assumed they were all stolen. Beside the gun shop was a flower shop. Tyler reached out to touch one of the red roses, his fingers gently caressing the petals. He had never seen real flowers before. Another sold gasoline, a substance that Tyler had never even been close to before. Scientists had long ago discovered another substance, one they could make in a lab easily and quickly which replaced gasoline. There was another selling small potted saplings and another sold meat but what animal it came from, Tyler wasn’t quite certain. He didn’t want to ask.

“You don’t have any mods, sir!” A voice called out to Tyler. He turned, clutching his valuable bag of sweets tightly. A man dressed in a butcher’s apron and a black jumpsuit stood by a table, his eyes looking over Tyler. “Are you looking to get one? I have some of the finest skin available for mods.” Tyler’s gaze lowered to the table. Human skin lay on display. Tyler resisted the urge to gag. Evan’s hand curled around his arm, pulling him away from the grotesque table.

“A-Are you really wearing someone else’s skin?” Tyler glanced down at the lights around Evan’s wrists and the skin over the lights. Evan sighed.

“Some designs require more skin then what we have to work with on our bodies...so we need more skin. You’ll see tonight. What I have is tame compared to some other people in my neighbourhood. The business of skin is quite big...The surgeons and pretty ads just don’t tell you how they get it,” Evan said quietly. “Try not to think about it. Eat some more chocolate.” Evan insisted. Tyler nodded, putting another piece of chocolate into his mouth.

“Don’t you care?” Tyler breathed. “That you are wearing someone’s skin?” Evan stopped, looking up at him.

“Plastic heart...remember?” Evan smiled.

“Evan...Drop it. Stop putting on a show for me. I can see you.” Tyler sighed. “Be honest with me..” Evan blinked. He opened his mouth to say something in retort but found himself unable to. Instead, he turned on his heel and continued down the aisle. Tyler stared after him.

_Fragile heart…_

Tyler turned, walking into an another aisle. He’d catch up with Evan. He walked past long tables filled with things he’d only heard about, kinds of metals and jetpacks which were made illegal not long after they were invented and sold to the public; too many people died horrifically. There was even a vendor selling beautiful, brightly coloured birds. He thought about buying one for Evan but he doubted he’d keep it alive for very long.

Tyler turned away from the birds, continuing down the aisle.

A man walked past him, his midnight blue hair glinting in the neon light. His shoulder hit Tyler as he walked past. Tyler turned, an insult building on his tongue.

“Watch where-” Tyler’s words were suddenly lost. He found himself unable to speak. The man’s black velvet waistcoat glinted in the light. The man smiled at him before turning away, disappearing into the crowd. Tyler stared after him.

Slowly, he turned away, taking a nervous bite out of another piece of chocolate. He hurried down the aisle, finding Evan standing at a booth, a small bottle full of a clear liquid in his hand. “What is that?” Tyler asked softly.

Evan’s eyes lit up.

“Medicine…”

  


Music spilt onto the pristine, orange neon-lit street. Posh townhouses lined the street. Expensive hover cars driven by chauffeurs parked at the side of the road, their elegant passengers getting out and heading towards one of the large houses, all of its windows alive with movement and colour.

Inside, guests lounged on the expensive furniture, wine glasses in their hands. They were dressed in the newest of fashions, glowing gowns and tux jackets, with complex, stiff constructions to turn their wearers into walking art, elaborate body mods and covered head to toe in gems. Ballerinas dressed in large tutus made of metal and wire spun through the halls, enchanting the guests. Servers walked from room to room, countless glasses of wine and champagne on their treys. Glittering chandeliers hung from the tall ceilings. Warm neon lights danced off the gems the guests wore. Their low voices filled the room, the soft, pleasant music playing rising and falling.

“Did you hear about Evan?” A young woman leaned towards her group of friends, her tattooed teeth glinting in the light. Her friends shook their heads. “He’s missing.”

“Oh no!” One of them gasped. Her whole chest had been modded to be covered with lights and gems that seemed to grow from her skin. “He’s such a good boy.”

A ballerina twirled past them and down the hall, into one of the large sitting rooms where a group of men in glowing suits gathered around the bar.

“A hacker stole five million from Jon...So he said he’s taking care of it. That’s why he’s not here tonight.”

“I heard he tracked the hacker down, kidnapped his kid.”

“Five million is a lot of money. I’d do the same thing. You don’t just steal five million and get away with it.” One of them pointed out. He had scales implanted on his neck and face, giving him a snake-like appearance.

“He should have just killed the hacker. Those pests never learn their lesson. They just keep coming back, tunnelling through our servers.” Another snapped. “I’d kill him and have him skinned just to see what’s under there, find out what makes hackers so stupid.” The others laughed.

“Could make a great mod of it!” One of them said.

“Or hang it in the street as a warning to other hackers.” The Gang members laughed.

“Where is Jon hiding out? We’ll help him skin the bitch!” They roared with laughter. One of the waiters left the room, his tray full of empty glasses. He headed down the hall towards the kitchen door.

“Dinner is now being served!” A voice called out. A murmur of approval rippled through the house, the expensive guests making their way to the large dining room. The kitchen door swung open, nearly hitting the young waiter. A young man dressed in all black save for a blinding gold jacket and large gold visor that covered his face, stepped out of the kitchen. The waiter stared at him. His gold jacket looked like it had been pieced together with pieces of glass.

On the back of his coat was a bloody heart with a sword stabbed through it; the immaculate heart.

The waiter turned as a taller man walked out of the kitchen in a matching black jacket that glinting in the light. A large black visor covered his face. He stopped, leaning down to whisper in the waiter’s ear.

“You should go home now.” The waiter paled as the man stepped away from him, following the young man dressed in gold down the hall. The bleeding heart on the back of his gold jacket glinted in the neon light.

In the dining room, guests sat around the long table, talking among themselves as they feasted on lavish dishes of foods that hadn’t been seen by the regular working soul for decades. Fresh vegetables and meats, champagne and chocolates, the most savoury of spices and the sweetest of whipped creams.

All at once, their conversations seemed to stop.

They looked at each other, wondering if the person sitting next to them was feeling the strange tingle in their throats was starting to feel more and more like something burning them from the inside out.

One of them began to scream, blood oozing from their mouth and dripping to their expensive plate.

The dining room door opened.

A young man in a gold jacket stood at the door, watching them through his gold visor.

They all began to scream in agony, choking on their own blood.

The first body dropped to the floor, his eyes wide and bloodshot.

The young man leaned against the door, watching the chaos.

One of the screaming women reached for his hand but he would not give it to her.

The bloody scene reflected off his gold visor.

They hit at the door beside the young man but it would not budge.

They hit at the young man in gold but he would not budge.

One by one, they all collapsed to the floor, their last breaths escaping their blood-caked mouths.

Finally, the door opened.

The tall man in the black coat stepped into the room. He lifted his black visor.

“What have you done?” Tyler whispered, taking in the bloody sight.

Slowly, the young man in gold reached for his gold visor. He lifted it, his dark gaze scanning over the bloody table and the corpses that lay around it. The corpses of those who had manipulated him, who had hurt him, who cut his heart out.

Evan smiled.

“I’ve given them their medicine…” He breathed. He looked up at Tyler, his smile wavering. He turned towards the door, walking out of the gory room.

The bleeding, immaculate heart on his back glowed in the neon light.


	18. Ache

Fitz dreamed of a dark hallway. 

Red neon lights cast his shadow onto the old stone walls. Slowly, he made his way down the hall, his white boots clicking on the stone floor. He could hear someone crying. He reached the end of the hall. He could go either left or right. He stood there, listening for the crying sound. 

It was coming from the left. 

Slowly, the tall boy turned, starting down the narrow, dark hallway. The crying got louder. Through the hazy red light, he could see a figure huddled in the corner. Their pink hoodie was splattered with blood and dirt. 

“M-Mason?” His own voice sounded far away, as if underwater. His legs couldn’t move fast enough. “Mason…” He reached for the boy. His fingers curled around the pink hood and threw it back. 

There was nothing under Mason's hood but a bloody stump. 

Fitz screamed, falling back onto the stone floor as the headless boy rose to his feet. Dirt stained Fitz’s white pants and coat, his hands and feet clawed and kicked at the stone, struggling to get away. “Mason!”

The headless boy lunged for him, his cold fingers curling around his throat.  

Fitz’s eyes flew open, a small scream bursting from his chest. 

He heaved for air, his hands trembling. He closed his eyes tightly, struggling to force the image of the headless boy from his mind. 

_ He’s fine...He’s okay...You’ll find him… _

Fitz slowly opened his eyes. He took in the messy bedroom around, the stuffed animals on the shelf and the bed around him, the clothes on the floor, the framed photo on the desk by the large circular window. For just a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was. 

_ Mason’s room… _

After his flight with the jetpack, he and Brian had come back downstairs, sharing a bottle of Fitz’s whiskey and talked till the sun started to rise. Fitz offered Brian his room, insisting on it. He had gotten the couch set up to sleep on but had found himself wandering into Mason’s room as the sun rose, absent-mindedly cleaning up some of the mess before laying down on the bed, his arms wrapping around one of Mason’s stuffies; a pink fox. 

Fitz closed his eyes again, pressing his face against the pink stuffed animal. His fingers clutched at its soft fabric fur. Tears welled up in his eyes, slipping down his pale cheeks. He felt exhausted, mentally and physically. He had barely slept since Mason went missing. He didn’t want to sleep. It was wasting valuable time. 

What had he been doing when Mason went missing? 

Sleeping. 

_ Lazy...Not enough.  _

Fitz let out a gasping sob. His heart ached. His muscles cried. His eyes just wanted to close. 

He wanted Mason back. 

He wanted to take him to the movies, wanted to buy him bubble tea with the jellies because hated the pearls but he was always stealing sips from Fitz’s drink. He wanted to make him breakfast and listen to his stories about the antics he up to with his friends, wanted to hold him tight and never let go. 

Fitz slowly let go of the pink fox, rolling onto his back. His bright gaze rested on the ceiling. The ring around his iris glowed as his eye screen lit up. News headlines, the time and images floated through the air around him. He stared at the time. 

_ 1:45pm.  _

He should get up. 

He scanned through his messages. There was one from Bordie. 

_ Please tell me you are alive…  _

Fitz quickly responded, the words hovering in the air above him. 

_ I’m home.  _

His eye screen flickered off, the words slowly disappearing into nothing. Fitz managed to sit up, his exhausted gaze locked onto the floor. He told himself to thoroughly clean this room soon. He knew there was probably food rotting in a container under the bed and clothes that hadn’t been washed in months. At least Mason kept the window open so it didn’t smell too bad. 

Fitz sighed. He couldn’t bring himself to stand up. Every part of him screamed to go back to bed all while screaming at him to get back to work. 

“Get up…” Fitz whispered to himself. His hands gripped the side of the mattress. “Get up…” He couldn’t do it. His eyes had closed again. He began to fall back onto the bed, his head landing on the warm blankets. “Get up…” He breathed. 

_ I can’t...I’m not enough… _

 

Fitz dreamed of the train tunnel. 

Sitting by the window, he stared at the cement wall of the tunnel as the train sped down the track, white neon light flashing through the window. The train rocked side to side, the wheels sending up sparks as they grinded against the track. He stared out the window at nothing. His white boots tapped a beat on the white floor of the train car. 

He thought about how he could melt into the floor and no one would know. He’d simply be a puddle that’d evaporate into nothing. 

“Fitz…” A voice whispered. Slowly, Fitz began to turn his head to look at the seat beside him. “Get up…” Fitz met the one-eyed gaze of the boy sitting beside him. 

Fitz’s stomach rolled. 

Mason sat beside him, his right eye melting out of his skull. 

“Please get up…” Mason said. 

Fitz began to scream. 

The white neon light flashed through the window. 

Sparks flew from the screaming metal.

“Fitz! Get up, Fitz!” Mason said, blood dripping down the side of his face.

The tall boy’s eyes flew open.

The train and the nightmarish boy disappeared but he couldn’t stop screaming, tears spilling down his face. Warm arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly. Fitz’s head rested against Brian’s chest as he struggled to breath. His wide, teary eyes landed on the pink fox. 

“Shh...You’re okay. You’re okay.” Brian said softly. “It was just a nightmare…” 

“I gotta...I gotta find him...I gotta find Mason…” Fitz sobbed. 

“You will.” Brian breathed, rocking Fitz back and forth gently. “You will.” Brian slowly moved away from Fitz. He gently brushed Fitz’s golden curls from his face. “I made you breakfast...or I guess dinner at this hour.” Brian smiled. “Get up when you’re ready.” The officer got up, heading to the door. Fitz watched him go, the door closing behind him. 

Fitz took a deep shaking breath. 

He counted to ten before pushing himself up to his feet. 

He grabbed one of the oversized hoodies on the floor, smelling it before pulling it on to make sure it wasn’t too dirty. 

Mason stole his clothes all the time.

A cold breeze came through the open window. The dark sky glowed. 

Fitz pulled open the door, his bare feet padding on the wood floor. He stopped when he got to the table. 

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting when Brian said he made him breakfast. Mason had tried to make it for him before but all he ever brought for him was cereal. Fitz would still smile though and thank him. Brian had set out a large plate with eggs and bacon which wasn’t real meat since no one could afford that anymore and toast. Fitz stared at it, not sure of what to say. “Not hungry?” Brian asked from where he leaned against the counter. 

“No...I am. T-Thank you.” Fitz slowly pulled out the chair and sat down at the table, picking up the fork. 

“I’ve got good news and bad news,” Brian said. “I need your help.” 

“What happened?” Fitz asked, dipping the toast in the sunny side up egg, the yellow poach soaking into the bread. 

“Someone killed fifteen Gang members an hour ago.” Fitz nearly choked on his toast. 

“What? How?” Fitz cried. 

“We don’t know yet. I’ve been called to the scene. I want you to come with me.” Brian said, taking a sip of his coffee. Fitz stared down at his plate, not feeling hungry anymore. “I’m scared, Fitz…This...This is going to end up killing even more people...On all sides...” Brian whispered. Rain pattered on the windows. Fitz lifted his gaze, looking up at him.  “I’m really scared…” 


	19. White

The hovercar flew past the towering, neon skyscrapers, heading towards the expensive suburb north of the downtown core. Brian gripped the wheel tightly, his gaze occasionally shifting to the hacker who sat beside him, his tired gaze on the window and the neon city below. The neon lights cast an ever-changing rainbow of colour onto his white clothes. 

“We’re going somewhere pricey...wear the best thing you have. You can’t be noticed.” Brian had instructed Fitz as he pulled on his heavy grey coat. Fitz nodded, disappearing into his room. He returned a few minutes later dressed all in white with a long white coat with constructed sleeves, giving his shoulders a broader look over a white shirt. His white pants were tucked into his white boots, the straps wrapping around his shins. The white suited him; his curls more golden than Brian had ever seen them. “Perfect.” Brian smiled.

Now, they flew in silence towards the suburb. Brian glanced at Fitz again, remembering how he had screamed and cried when he woke up from what Brian could only assume was a violent nightmare, Mason’s toy stuffed animal held tight in his arms. Brian looked away from Fitz, his gaze on the city ahead of them. 

Fear hung heavy over the officer. 

The first shot of the war had been fired. Now there was nothing they could do but climb the trench wall and run into battle. 

“Don’t let anyone read you,” Brian said. 

“I know.” 

“If anyone asks...you are my assistant sent by the college as part of your studies. Got it?” 

“I dropped out of college.” 

“I know.” Brian met Fitz’s gaze. “Got it?” 

“Yes.” Fitz nodded. 

“I need you to help me look for anything that’ll find our killer. You have the reader, right?” Brian asked. He was talking about Fitz’s eye screen. It had been modded with some of the best high tech capabilities normally found in police eye screens or used by city officials; Gang members. Just having one when he wasn’t any of those things was a crime. The reader allowed Fitz to read people’s Citizen files, all of their information and cyber footprints, their criminal records and contact lists. Everything. 

“Yeah.” Fitz nodded again.

“Use it.” 

“What if I get caught?” 

“You won’t,” Brian reassured him. Fitz stared at him for a moment before turning his gaze back to the window. Brian hoped that he trusted him. Despite allowing him to push him off the roof, there was a still a seed of doubt in Brian’s mind. Perhaps it was simply the police officer in him telling him to arrest Fitz. He had been trained to think that arresting the poor hacker was the right thing to do but another part of him told him it wasn’t, that finding Mason was the right thing. 

They were silent the rest of the way. 

The hovercar slowly began to descend to the street. The townhouse was tapped off with police tape. Neighbours looked on with curiosity. Brian got out of the car first, walking around the car to Fitz’s side. He pulled open the door. “Coming?” Fitz took a deep breath before getting out of the car, pushing the door closed. They hurried up the steps, their boots clicking on the stone steps. Inside, it was warm. An officer was speaking to a ballerina in the beautiful front living room, her metal tutu glinting in the light under the chandelier. 

“Brian!” One of the officers hurried over to them. “Glad you could make it.” 

“What's going on?” Brian asked as they were lead through the large house. Fitz followed close behind, his gaze taking in the expensive furniture and the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. 

“About an hour ago, we got a call by one of the serving staff. Said that everyone was dead. It happened during dinner. We think it was poison, sir.” The officer explained nervously. Fitz's eyes flickered to Brian when the officer addressed him as ‘sir’. A small smile pulled at his lips. 

“Poison?” Brian repeated. The officer nodded. “Did any of the staff get a look at who did it?” 

“No. The kitchen staff, the only people who would have seen them, were all gone just after dinner was served.” 

“Paid off,” Fitz whispered. Brian glanced back at him and nodded. They continued down the hall to the dining room.

“One of the serving staff claimed to have seen the two suspects but they were wearing visors over their faces so he wasn’t able to get a good look.” The officer added. 

“We’ll have to question him,” Brian said as they reached the dining room door. 

“This is a...A grotesque sight, sir.” 

“We’re prepared,” Brian said sharply. The officer nodded and pushed open the door. Fitz paled, resisting the urge to turn away and gag. Brian stood in the doorway, not moving as his eyes scanned over the corpses that lay around the table. Fifteen were Gang members. Ten others were friends, family or significant others of the Gang members. “No mercy…” Brian whispered. He turned to the trembling officer. “Give us a moment please. Go get some air,” Brian ordered. 

“Thank you, sir.” The officer turned away from the door. He glanced at Fitz as he walked past, a questioning look flashing across his face. He glanced back Brian before continuing down the hall. 

"Sir..." Fitz smiled. Brian shot Fitz a glare before stepping into the room.

“You've got about five minutes to read them,” Brian said to Fitz. “Who died? Who did they know?” Brian pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket as Fitz hesitantly stepped into the gory room. 

“Could this be related to Tyler and Evan?” Fitz asked, the ring around his iris glowing as his screen came to life. He knelt down by a young man, his information floating through the air around Fitz. 

“Tyler and Evan are on the run. Why would they do something like this?” Brian asked, picking up a wine glass and swirling the wine left in it. It bubbled strangely. “This is a spit in the Gang’s face. Someone will surely die over it. Tyler and Evan are the selfish kind that values their lives above others. Why would they stupidly turn around and provoke the Gang?” 

“Was shooting one of the Gang’s racers not a spit in their face?” Fitz asked, moving onto the next body. He searched for patterns, names that appeared more than once on contact lists or in other forms. “Evan is a part of the Gang...Perhaps he knows something about them that we don’t.” 

“It’d have to be big if he murdered twenty-five people over it,” Brian said, swabbing some of the blood on the floor. “My question is why didn’t they leave the room to get help? Why did they all die in here?” 

“Couldn’t get out. Maybe they locked the door from outside.” 

“There’s no lock on it.”

“Someone held it shut then.” Fitz breathed. “Who's worse? The person who put the poison in the wine or the person who held the door shut?” Fitz wondered aloud. Brian glanced at him, watching as he carefully stepped around the puddles of blood so not to stain his white boots. 

“Both are guilty...equally.” 

“How so?” 

“One murdered and the other let them die when they could have helped,” Brian answered. Fitz stared back at him. Brian waited for his approval

“I don’t know the answer,” Fitz said. 

Brian blinked. 

They went back to their work. 

Outside, an expensive hover car slowly lowered to the street beside Brian’s police car. 

The chauffeur got out, hurrying up the stairs to the officer stationed there. He whispered something in the officer's ear. 

A police officer turned away from the front door, hurrying down the hall to the dining room. At the sound of the footsteps, Fitz turned off his eye screen, stepping away to the table and put his back against the wall. Brian turned to the door as the officer came into view. The officer swallowed nervously. 

“There is a...a uh...G...Gang Member here...He wishes to speak to you.” The officer said nervously, glancing between Brian and the corpses behind him. Brian glanced at Fitz who stared back at him with wide eyes. 

_ Don’t fuck us over, hacker… _

The officer glanced nervously down the hallway. “He’s coming…” 

They could hear heavy footsteps on the floor. 

Brian’s chest tightened.

Fitz pressed himself against the wall. 

His heart raced. 

The heavy footsteps got louder. 

A long black coat swept the hall’s floor. 

Sharp blue horns glinted in the light. 

Brian glanced at Fitz. 

A large dark shadow blocked out the doorway. 

“Officer Hanby...It's nice to finally meet you at last.” A voice called out. 

Brian’s gaze turned back to the door. 

Standing in the doorway was a tall man, his gaze sweeping the bloody room. 

Around his startling bright blue irises, his eye screens glowed. 

_ Only surgeons have two screens… _

From the man’s broad shoulders grew two blue horns. 

His piercing gaze landed on Brian. 

The officer could see him reading his info. 

Brian cleared his throat. 

“Jonathan, yes?” 

“Just call me Jon.” His gaze shifted away from Brian, trailing towards the hacker. Brian quickly stepped in front of Fitz. 

“Perhaps we could talk in the hallway, it’s quite bloody in here,” Brian said. Jonathan said nothing. “Sir...I-“ 

“Fitz.” Jonathan smiled. Brian turned, looking back at the tall boy who stared at Jonathan. Both the hacker’s and the Gang member’s eye screens glowed as they read each other, both in a competition to get the first and last word. Brian glanced at Jonathan nervously. 

_ The Gang took Mason...Does Jon know?  _

“Sir,” Brian said again with as much respect as he could muster. “We should really speak out in the hall.” 

“About my dead friends?” Jonathan spat, turning to look at Brian. “I want to see them, Brian. And I want you to find the fucker that did this and put a bullet in their fucking skull!” Jonathan screamed. Brian flinched. 

“Y-Yes, sir…” Brian managed to say. Fitz stared at Brian, his eyes wide. 

“And you!” Jonathan turned, his sharp gaze on the hacker. “Do you have anything you want me to tell Mason?” Fitz’s eyes widened. 

A violent silence hung over the room.

“I’m going to kill you.” Fitz breathed, his hands curling into fists. 

“I don’t think Mason wants to hear that.” Jonathan cocked his head to the side, the horn on his shoulder grazing his cheek. “Give me something good.” Fitz’s hands shook. “Nothing?” Jonathan laughed. “I’m still waiting for you to do the same thing I asked Brian to do. If you make me wait any longer...Well, I don’t think I need to tell you the consequences,” Jonathan spat. He turned away from Fitz, his long black coat sweeping the floor. His gold shoes glinted in the light. He started towards the door, Brian following after him. Fitz slowly pushed himself off the wall, following Brian. “Maybe I’ll make a mod out of him." Jonathan stopped, looking back at Fitz. He relished in the agony on Fitz's face. "A five million dollar mod,” Jonathan said through gritted teeth as he turned away, walking into the hall. 

Fitz suddenly lunged for Brian, his hand reaching for the gun on his hip. 

Brian’s grey-gloved hand grabbed Fitz’s white covered wrist. 

Jonathan kept walking towards the front door. 

“Give me the fucking gun, Brian,” Fitz said sharply. 

Brian pressed his forehead against Fitz’s, his teeth gritting. 

“No.” 

“Brian.” Fitz tried to pull away but Brian wouldn’t let go. “Give me the gun.” 

“No.” Brian snarled. “Because if you shoot him you will never see Mason again.” Fitz stared at Brian, their faces just inches from each other. “You will die and Mason will die. Move away from me and my gun. That is an order.” 

“I’m not a fucking officer for you to push around...Sir.” Fitz snarled. 

“I will arrest you.” 

“I’ll tell everyone you lied to the captain.” 

“Who is going to believe you?” Brian shot back. 

“I have proof.” 

“What?” 

“Just because you weren't recording doesn’t I’m wasn't too...” Fitz’s ring around his iris glowed. 

Brian’s upper lip curled with fury. 

“You fucking cu-“ 

“Give me the gun, Brian.” 

“Kill him and you kill Mason. How would that feel?” Brian sneered. “How would it feel to have your boy’s blood on your hands?” Fitz’s chest rose and fell heavily. 

His fingers struggled to reach for the gun in Brian’s hip. 

Brian's hand clutched Fitz's wrist tightly. It would be bruised in the morning.

Fitz's eyes were filled with pure rage.

He pressed his forehead harder against Brian’s. 

“You don’t scare me.” 

“Why should I be scared of you?” Brian snapped. He glanced at the door, watching Jonathan walk down the front steps towards his expensive hovercar.  His gaze flickered back to Fitz. “You couldn’t even fight for your boy.” 

Fitz suddenly stepped back and slammed his fist into Brian’s nose. 

As Brian fell back against the wall, Fitz pulled the gun from its holster on Brian’s belt. 

Blood oozed down Brian's face. 

He could taste it. 

Brian watched as Fitz ran towards the front door, cocking the gun. 

Fitz staggered to a stop as the hovercar took off into the air. 

Slumped against the wall, Brian watched the hacker, the gun in his bloody hand trembling. 

_ Go ahead...Shoot the fucking car. See what happens. _

Instead, Fitz slowly turned to look at Brian. Fitz looked down at the gun in his hand. The officer watched the hacker. Fitz took a deep, shuddering breath. The rain fell heavily just behind the golden-haired boy. 

Fitz tucked the gun into his white coat before turning away from Brian, walking out of the bloody house and into the dark night. 


	20. Gentle

The bright neon lights reflected off Evan’s golden jacket as he and Tyler walked through the rain. Evan’s black hair stuck to his head. The lights around his wrists glowed a vile yellow tone under the layer of unfamiliar skin. 

He thought that he’d be feeling free now that so many Gang members were dead. 

Instead, he felt heavy. 

He felt trapped under the almost thirty bodies whose blood soaked his hands. 

He was going to suffocate. 

_ What have I done?  _

The lights around his wrists flashed a panicked white colour. 

_ They had it coming...It's what they deserve for what they did to me… _

The lights settled into an angry red colour. 

_ Why do I feel like this? Was it not enough?  _

“He’s not dead yet…” Evan said aloud. Tyler turned his head to look down at him, a look of confusion flashing across his face. 

“Who’s not dead yet?” Tyler asked quietly. Evan looked down at the wet pavement. 

“The man with the horns…” Evan breathed. He remembered his cruel words, remembered his cruel orders, his cruel fists. Tyler stared at him. 

“I don’t want to kill anyone else,” Tyler said. “I can fight someone sure but killing them? Pain is temporary, Evan.” 

“Some kinds of pain are,” Evan said, turning to look back at him. “Others aren’t.” 

“Evan...I’m sorry for what you went through. I just...I just don’t think I can keep doing this. I didn’t think it’d be like this. I didn’t think we’d get like this.” 

“You just wanted a quick fuck that night,” Evan said quietly. Tyler opened his mouth to argue that but he couldn't. He nodded. “I did too.” Evan breathed. 

“And after what happened...What you did...I thought you were defenceless. I thought I had to protect you. Turns out I didn’t have to.” Tyler sighed. “And I’m okay with that. What I’m not okay with is this bloodlust, Evan. I can’t...I can’t do it.” 

“You held the door,” Evan whispered.

“What?” 

“All you did was hold the door.” 

“That doesn’t mean I don’t feel less guilty, Evan!” Tyler threw his hands up in defeat. “If you’re gonna keep going down this path...You're doing it alone.” Evan stared at Tyler. 

“Are you leaving me?” Evan breathed. Tyler stared at him. “You think I’m a bad person.” 

“Yes, I do.” Tyler sighed. “Doesn’t mean you can’t be saved.” Evan blinked. “Walk away from this. Let's leave the city. Start over.” 

“You’ll...You’ll take me with you?” 

“Yes.” Tyler reached for Evan’s hand. “No one will know. No one will try to hurt us.” 

“What if...What if they follow us?”

“How could they follow us?” Tyler asked. “Did you throw away your phone?” 

“Yes…” Evan lied. Tyler couldn’t help but laugh. “Where will we go?” Evan asked. 

“Anywhere. Where do you want to go?” 

“I’ve always wanted to see the west coast…” Evan said quietly. 

“Then we’ll go there. Tomorrow.” Tyler smiled. He reached for Evan’s hand. The raven-haired boy took his hand. “Are you going to listen to me and let this all go?” Tyler asked. Evan stared up at him. 

His dark eyes flickered down to Tyler’s lips. 

“You’ve done so much for me…” Evan whispered. “Thank you.”  Evan took a step towards Tyler. His free hand reached up for Tyler’s neck, his fingers gently caressing his skin. Tyler stared down at him. “Thank you..” 

Evan stretched onto his tiptoes to gently kiss Tyler. 

The immaculate heart on the back of his jacket glowed in the neon light as he started to move away from Tyler. 

Tyler’s arm snaked around his waist, pulling him back. 

Evan smiled against Tyler’s lips. 

Tyler remembered thinking of what the vapour oozing from Evan’s lips tasted like that first night, remembered how his black hair had looked blue in the light, how he had giggled at the way the hovercar rumbled to life. 

Under all that pain and blood and bone was a human. 

A beautiful, lovable human. 

Tyler’s arms tightened around Evan was he spun him around, pinning him against the cement wall. Evan’s cold hands cupped Tyler’s face. The rain soaked their hair and clothes. They could taste it on each other’s lips.  

Tyler broke away from the kiss, looking down at Evan who stared up at him, his eyes dark pools that reflected the glowing neons lights around them. 

Evan smiled, a smart remark blossoming on his tongue. 

Tyler stifled it with a kiss. 

Evan smiled, breaking away after a moment. His fingers played with Tyler’s collar. The lights around his wrists cast a soft red glow onto Tyler’s face. 

“Let's find a hotel…” 

 

Cigarette smoke floated around the raven-haired boy. He sat on the balcony, his bare feet resting on the cold, wet railing. He wore his black jeans, a blanket wrapped around his bare shoulders. The lights around his wrists glowed a soft blue colour. 

Evan stared up at the glowing sky, watching the hover cars and bikes fly by. He thought about how strange this all was. Barely three nights ago, he had been having bubble tea with his friend, waiting for the next orders from the Gang. Now he was in a hotel room, a beautiful blonde boy sleeping in the room behind him. 

Now there was Gang Member's blood on his hands. 

He smiled, taking a drag from the cigarette.

Looking back up at the sky, he wondered if he’d really be able to do it; letting go. It sounded easier to say than actually doing it. Evan glanced down at the cigarette box on the glass table beside his chair. He’d have to buy more cigarettes. 

_ Does Tyler really think I can be saved?  _

Evan exhaled the smoke from his lungs. The blue smoke swirled around him. 

_ What do I deserve?  _

What would the families of the people he killed tonight think he deserved? Death? A slow, painful, bloody death? The grinding of bone against bone? 

Evan didn’t want to think about it. 

He glanced back over his shoulder through the glass door. In the dim light, he could see the bed and Tyler sleeping there, his arm stretched to Evan’s side. 

Evan remembered tears slipping down his face. 

Tyler had stopped, asking him if everything was okay. Evan had nodded, a smile on his face as he pulled Tyler into a kiss. 

Evan turned away from the window, taking another drag. He blew the smoke out a moment later as he stood up, looking down at the rainy street below. He took another drag before putting his cigarette out. 

He needed a drink. 

He walked back inside, closing the sliding door behind him. He laid the blanket down on the bed, his hand gently brushing the hair off Tyler’s face. He reached for his black shirt, pulling it one before slipping his feet into the hotel room’s free slippers. He grabbed his phone and the room key, silently moving towards the door. The hallway was silent and empty as he waited for the elevator. The elevator arrived a moment later, it’s doors opening with a happy dinging sound. He watched the floor numbers pass as the elevator descended the thirty floors to the second floor. 

As the doors opened, he could hear a soft jazz song playing, the mournful notes floating down the red and gold hallway. His slippers padded on the floor as he walked towards the bar. He walked into the large room, past empty tables still littered with cups and bottles. Couples sat in the corners of booths, whispering sweet nothings to each other. 

The golden bar came into view. 

Neon light shone through the tall windows. 

Rain pattered on the glass. 

Music played softly. 

Evan stopped a few feet from the bar. 

His eyes widened. 

He braced himself. 

His gaze fixated on the only other person sitting at the bar. There was a crystal whiskey glass in his hand, his knuckles red with dried blood.

Slowly, as if feeling piercing eyes on him, the tall boy in white turned to look at the black haired boy. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Evan spat. 

The boy reached for the golden stool beside him, patting the red leather seat. 

“Please..." Fitz said softly, his bright eyes fixed on Evan. "Have a drink with me." 


	21. Saving Grace

Fitz kicked at the puddles on the pavement. The bottoms of his white boots were dirty. The cold wind played with his white coat, his large hood pulled up over his head against the rain. His knuckles stung, the red blood caked to his skin stood out like neon against the snow white of his clothes. The few strands of golden hair sticking out from under his hood clung to his forehead. 

_    I’m not enough...I couldn’t even shoot him.  _

   Fitz kicked at another puddle, water splashing up around him. 

_    I let him down...Mason is going to die and it’s all my fault... _

 Fitz felt sick. His stomach rolled with every step. Overhead, the night sky glowed. He stopped, leaning against the red neon store window behind him. Faceless mannequins on the other side of the glass posed in beautiful black suits.

He couldn't go home, not without Mason. 

He couldn't bear the silence. 

Fitz closed his eyes. The red neon light buzzed. Mason would tell him not to wallow but what else could he do? Going after Jon alone would certainly end with his death. Brian was no longer an option. The hacker let out an angry sigh at the thought of the police officer. 

Who else could help him? 

What else could he do? 

Fitz’s eyes suddenly snapped open, the ring around his iris glowing brightly. He quickly got into the surveillance camera server, the exact same used by the police. Images floated around him. He was looking for a certain face. 

The flurry of images around him suddenly stopped. His gaze flickered to the image. It was taken out front of a hotel about a twenty-minute walk from where Fitz now stood. 

He played the video, watching the two young men walk into the hotel. They wouldn’t have been noticed if the black-haired boy hadn’t look back over his shoulder, revealing his face to the camera. Fitz watched the video replay. The glass felt cold against his back. 

_ Shoot him...Get Mason… _

Fitz watched the video again. 

_ Get Mason… _

The video repeated. 

_ Get Mason… _

Fitz suddenly pushed himself off the glass, the videos and images fading into thin air as his eye screen turned off. He hurried down the dark, neon-lit streets, pushing through the crowded sidewalks as he reached one of the busiest parts of the city. Smoke from food vendors poured into the air. Music spilt from restaurants. People wandered to and fro, their attention lost to the city, to the Leviathan. 

Fitz pushed through the crowd, reaching the door of the expensive hotel. 

Gold neon lights flashed around the sign.

The first thing he did when he got inside the beautiful, old hotel was to ask for the black haired boy’s room number. Then he went up to the second floor and bought himself a glass of the strongest whiskey he could get. The glass in his bloody hand sparkled like the chandelier hanging above him. Faint jazz music played from somewhere in the large room. 

Fitz was well into his second drink when he heard the elevator ding cheerily. A few moments later, the soft shuffling sound of slippered feet on the red carpet. Fitz took another sip from his strong drink, his eyes on the bar in front of him. 

He felt eyes bore into his back. 

Slowly, he turned, meeting Evan’s dark gaze. 

_ Shoot him...Get Mason.  _

Fitz took a deep breath. He placed his hand on the stool beside him, gesturing for Evan to sit down. “Please…” Fitz managed to say. “Have a drink with me.” Evan stared at the tall boy, not moving. Somewhere in the bar, a woman laughed. Evan blinked. 

“Are you going to kill me?” Evan asked quietly. Fitz patted the seat again.

“Please...Just sit down. Let me talk…” Fitz pleaded. 

“No. Tell me. Are you going to kill me?” Evan demanded. Fitz looked him over, taking in his flushed face, his slippered feet, the way his hair looked blue in the golden light and the hickey peeking out from under his t-shirt collar. He could smell the cigarette smoke clinging to him. 

“No…” Fitz whispered. “You’ve done nothing wrong...You simply rebelled...I want to kill the man that took Mason and you are going to help me do it.” Evan blinked. He glanced back over his shoulder, as if expecting someone to be standing there but there was no one. Hesitantly, Evan took a step forward and sat down beside Fitz. 

“Mason...That’s your boy’s name?” Evan asked as Fitz ordered a glass of whiskey for him. Fitz nodded, reaching into his white coat pocket for his phone. He found a photo of him and Mason, showing it to Evan. A smile pulled at the edges of Evan’s lips. “You look like brothers.” 

“Yeah...I more or less adopted him.” Fitz said, setting his phone down. The bartender set a crystal glass down in front of Evan. They watched in silence as he poured the strong amber alcohol into the glass. Evan thanked him and took a sip. “He ran away from home...showed up at my apartment in the middle of the night. He’s been my little brother...my boy...ever since.” Fitz smiled. He looked down at his glass as he swirled the amber liquid. His smile disappeared. “I have to get him back, Evan.” Fitz finished his drink, the alcohol burning his throat. Evan stared at him. 

“You want me to help you?” 

“Please. It was that man with the horns-” 

“Jonathan…” Evan breathed. Fitz’s brow furrowed. 

“Do you know him?” 

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” 

“Okay…” Fitz smiled. “How do you know him?” Evan’s dark gaze flickered to Fitz. His eyes narrowed, as if judging the stupidity of that question. 

His dark eyes looked over Fitz. 

The tall boy ran a hand through his golden curls, not sure how to feel with the killer's gaze locked onto him in such a way. 

“That’s a better question.” Evan mused, taking a sip of his drink. “I did work for him...His personal hitman of sorts. He said he’d take care of me.” He smiled at Fitz who stared back at him. "It took me way too long to realize that he wasn't..."

“Evan…” 

“I know.” Evan sighed. “I just...I don’t know if I can help you.” Evan finished his drink. 

“Y-You have to. Please!” Fitz cried, his eyes wide. He started to reach for Evan's arm but stopped himself, thinking better of it. 

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Evan said, pushing his cup away. Fitz’s chest tightened. His eyes stung with tears. 

“Please. I’ll pay you. Anything you want. Please. You have to help me.” Fitz cried. The bartender glanced at them from the other side of the bar. 

Evan reached for Fitz’s hand, holding it tightly. 

Fitz stared at Evan's hand curled around his. Slowly, he looked back up at the killer. 

“I made a promise, Fitz.” Evan wouldn’t meet Fitz's pained stare. “I gotta leave this city...got let all of this go…” 

“Fuck your promise, coward.” Fitz yanked his hand away from Evan. 

“Fitz…” 

“Go to hell, fucker.” Fitz snarled. Evan stared at him for a moment longer before getting up. “Go ahead. Leave the city. Tell yourself you did the right thing, turning your back.” Evan stopped, his hands curling into fists. “Leave this city worse than you found it.” Fitz spat. Evan slowly turned, looking back at Fitz.  Fitz turned to look back at Evan over his shoulder. He couldn't stop the words from spilling out of his mouth. They were vile, manipulative words and Fitz knew just where to strike. "If you walk away right now...You will only be proving me and that dark voice in your head right...Running away will not save you.” 

The black-haired boy couldn’t take his eyes off the tall boy dressed in white. 

Evan found himself unable to look away from Fitz and his piercing gaze.

Tyler was right, he could be saved. 

His saving grace was sitting right in front of him, a crystal whiskey glass held tight in his bloodied hand. 

“I told myself that I’m not going home unless Mason is with me,” Fitz said, holding Evan in his gaze.  “Please...Will you help me?” 

Evan took a deep breath before walking back to his seat, sitting down beside Fitz. 

He ordered another drink.

Evan met Fitz’s gaze with a smile. 

“It’s going to be a long night.” 


	22. Empty Glass

Rainwater splashed under the police officer’s boots as he walked towards his car. He pressed his black handkerchief against his bleeding nose. The bloody townhouse behind him loomed over the street. He pulled open the door, getting into the car with a sigh. He understood why Fitz was so angry with him, but he was angry at Fitz for being so irrational, angry at him for walking away from him. 

Wasn’t it better to be smart and get Mason back alive and well then to be rash and violent? 

_ Do the right thing. _

Brian sighed, the ring around his iris lighting up. Despite his anger, he had to find Fitz before he and his boy wound up dead in the gutter. 

“Find Fitz.” He told the computer. It got to work scanning the camera system, sorting through images taken from various parts of the city. The neon images floated around the police officer. 

He barely looked at them.

All he could think about was the anger in Fitz’s eyes and the hurt that quickly followed, about the way he had pressed his forehead against his, about how his breath had felt on his face and neck. 

Brian shivered. 

He ran a hand through his blonde hair. Looking up at the images flashing around him, he could only hope that Fitz hadn’t done something that would get him or anyone else killed. Brian decided that the less bloodshed in getting Mason back, the better. 

The flurry of images suddenly stopped. 

His warm breath escaped his lips in a cloud of vapour in the cold air. 

He stared at the image that floated in front of him. He played the video, watching the tall boy dressed in white march into the expensive hotel. 

_ Why would he go there?  _

“Rewind…” Brian ordered the computer. The video went backwards, Fitz disappearing off screen. Brian watched the video closely. 

Then he saw them. 

_ Evan and Tyler.  _

“Fuck.” Brian rubbed his temples.

This was why he never worked with partners since the last one; they were all reckless. 

The video faded as his eye screen turned off. The hovercar rumbled to life. 

He could only hope that there was still time. 

The car lifted into the cold air, steam rising from its powerful engine. 

With its lights flashing, the car sped through the air, past other cars and bikes, around neon skyscrapers and between narrow alleys. 

Neon lights from passing cars and billboards flashed into the car. 

It slowly began its descent out front of the expensive hotel, it’s gold neon lights flashing into the hover car. 

He reached into the glove box for the gun he kept in his car. 

The police officer got out of the car, his long grey coat swirling around him as he slammed the door shut and hurried inside. The young man at the front desk looked up at the officer as he came inside. 

“I’m looking for…” Brian paused. Fitz doesn’t have the money for this place so if anyone got a room here, it would Evan. “A man named Evan…” His eye screen lit up as he quickly searched for the last name. “Fong.” He read. 

“He’s quite popular tonight.” The young man said quietly. He glanced up nervously at the officer and the badge pinned to his coat. “His room is on floor 32. Room 325.” 

“May I have a key?” The officer asked. The young man swallowed nervously before reaching for a key card. The young man said, his eyes on the officer’s badge as he handed the keycard to him. “Is something wrong, sir?” 

“A boy is missing,” Brian said. The young man stared at him. “Thank you.” He gave him a smile before turning away from the front desk. He followed the sound of music up a set of red-carpeted stairs to the second floor. He glanced through the large doorway into the bar. At this hour it was almost empty. 

Two empty crystal whiskey glasses stood on the bar top. 

No one sat at the bar. 

Brian turned away from the bar and hurried to the elevator. 

The doors couldn’t open fast enough. 

When he finally burst into the 32nd-floor hallway, he reached for his gun, pulling it from the holster, cautiously making his way towards the door of room 325. He placed the key card into the lock, the blue light turning a bright neon green.

Brian pushed the door open, his gun held out front of him. He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting to find. Perhaps a sign of a struggle, blood or even a body; whose he didn’t want to think about. 

The room was dark, the only light coming from the windows that looked out onto the balcony and the city beyond. From where he stood in the front hall, he could see a few pieces of clothing lying on the floor. There was no sign of struggle, no blood, no body. 

Brian slowly stepped out of the front hall into the room. 

Something moved out of the corner of his eye. 

Brian turned his head. 

Tyler’s sharp fist came down on his wrist, forcing him to drop the gun. Brian let out a cry of pain, clutching his wrist as he fell back against the wall. Tyler lunged for him. Brian kicked him hard in the chest, throwing him back. Tyler let out a snarl as he fell back against the wall. He gripped the corner, pulling himself upright. He threw a punch at Brian, pain exploding through his jaw as Tyler’s sharpened knuckles made contact. Brian staggered back, spitting blood onto the floor. Tyler grabbed him, a strong punch knocking the air from Brian’s lungs. Before he could even react, Tyler had thrown him down onto the floor and pinned him there with a strong knee pressed against his chest. Sweat dripped down Tyler’s bare chest. He was dressed only in his black pants. In the dim light, Brian could see dark marks dotting Tyler’s collarbone. 

Brian turned his head to look for his gun. 

It was just out of reach. 

“What the fuck do you want?” Tyler snarled, his sharp knuckles poised above Brian’s head. Brian stared at them as he struggled to catch his breath. “Tell me.” Tyler snarled, gripping Brian’s collar with his other hand. His grip tightened, choking the officer. 

“I-I followed...a hacker here...Fitz...His name is Fitz. I think he came here for Evan.” Brian managed to say. Tyler stared down at him. His eyes were filled with worry and rage. 

“Evan is gone,” Tyler whispered. “He said Fitz wouldn’t be able to take him...I don't think Fitz would be that stupid to try taking him.” 

“Maybe he left willingly…” Brian said, remembering the two whiskey glasses on the bar downstairs. He remembered sitting in Fitz’s small kitchen, watching the hacker drink his whiskey from one of the few glass cups he has, remembered Fitz telling him that he'd do anything to save Mason. “If they are together...I can help you find Evan.” Brian said, his eyes locked onto Tyler’s. “I promise you. I can help you find him...If you help me look for Fitz.” 

“Fitz tried to kill Evan. Why would he change his mind now?” Tyler snapped. 

“Fitz is just trying to get his boy back...he’s a good kid...He didn't want to hurt anybody..." Brian said, trying to not think about the eyes melted because of Fitz.  

“Why should I trust you?” Tyler snapped. Brian stared up at him, his badge glinting in the dim light. 

“Because...finding Evan and Fitz...and his boy...is my job." 


	23. Judge and Executioner

A white neon light flashed, filling the large cement room with light for only a moment before fading into darkness only to flash again. A hovercar passed overhead, it’s lights shining through the holes in the leaking roof. 

Sitting in the middle of the room, a man sat tied to an old, rickety chair. 

He struggled against the plastic ties that kept him held down to the chair. 

Leaning against one of the cement columns, a young man dressed in black smoked a cigarette. 

On the other side of the room, sitting on the cement floor with his back against another column, a golden-haired boy dressed all in white whistled a cheerful tune, his eyes on the heavy metal bat held in his bloody right hand. 

His whistling echoed through the large, empty room. 

Leaning against the column next to him was a jetpack. 

The white neon lights seeping in through the broken windows and the holes in the roof flashed. 

“What do you want?” The man zip tied to the chair screamed. He couldn’t look over his shoulder, couldn’t see the smoking man and his whistling friend. 

“There are certain spots all around the city where Gang members meet to pass along orders…” Evan had said, his eyes on the whiskey in his glass. “I was going to hit those spots next if Tyler hadn’t..." He trailed off, trailing his finger around the rim of his glass. "Point is...we just have to wait only long enough for one of the ants to come crawling out,” Evan said to Fitz who listened intently. 

“And we ask them where Jonathan is.” 

“I don’t think they are going to just tell us.” Evan took a sip from his strong drink. 

“We’ll make them tell us,” Fitz said sharply. Evan raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I thought you were a good boy.” 

“I will do whatever it takes to bring Mason home,” Fitz said, his piercing gaze locked onto Evan’s. 

The black haired boy smiled. 

“Okay.” Evan nodded. 

“You’re not going to stop me...from going too far?” Fitz asked quietly. Evan met his gaze. 

He burst into laughter. 

“I’m not one to talk.” Evan smiled. “I don’t know what too far means.” He finished his drink. “Besides. A parent will do anything for their kid. You are the parent here. You know what you’ll do for your kid.” Fitz stared at him. Slowly, Fitz nodded knowingly.

He knew exactly what he’d do for Mason. 

“We’ll need a fast form of transport. We need to catch Jon off guard.” Evan said. “You don’t happen to have a car, do you?” 

“No…” Fitz shook his head. “I have a jetpack though.” 

Evan’s eyes lit up. 

“Where?” 

“At home.” 

“Then let’s go,” Evan said, getting off his stool. “Just let me get my shoes.” He made Fitz laugh by wiggling his toes in his warm white slides. 

On the way to Fitz’s small apartment, the two boys found themselves talking more and more, planning the perfect attack. 

No one would know what happened and come tomorrow morning, Evan would be free to go wherever he wanted and Fitz would be making Mason breakfast. 

Now, Evan pushed himself off the column, walking over to the screaming man, his black boots clicking on the dirty cement floor.  

“You traitor bitch!” The man screamed at Evan. “They are coming for you! You’ll wish you were dead long ago!” Evan took a drag from his cigarette, his dark eyes staring down at the man. 

“Valid,” Evan said, smoke escaping his lips and nostrils. “I would say the same for you. I’m gonna ask you a question and I would recommend answering it cause for once...I’m the good cop in this scenario. I know how to break your neck quick and painless. That guy…” Evan pointed to Fitz who sat on the floor, his bat tapping against the cement. “Doesn’t. And the Gang took his kid. So he has no mercy for you.” The man glanced nervously over his shoulder but was still unable to see Fitz. 

“Look...I don’t know-” 

“You're the messenger. You know.” Evan said, taking another drag. “Don’t play stupid with me. I know how the Gang works. I’m one of you, remember.” 

“No, you aren’t, cunt.” 

Evan rolled his eyes. 

He placed the burning of his cigarette against the man’s neck. He screamed as it burned his skin. Evan pulled the cigarette away, tossing it to the floor. He knelt down in front of the man, a forced smile pulling at his lips. “Where is Jonathan?” 

“He’s gonna kill you.” 

“Where is he?” Evan asked again. 

“You are out of your fucking mind.” 

“Where is Jonathan hiding?” Evan repeated his question as he bent down to be face level with the man. “Where did he take the kid?” The man spat in Evan’s face. Evan closed his eyes for a moment, saliva dripping down his cheek. Slowly, he whipped it off with his black sleeve. “Don’t tell me I wasn’t nice to you,” Evan said, straightening up. 

The sound of metal scraping against the cement floor rang through the large, empty room. 

A tall man dressed all in white stepped into view. 

His bat dragged against the floor. 

The man stared up at him. 

There was pure fury in his eyes. 

“Where is Jonathan? Where did he take my boy?” The golden-haired boy asked.

The man said nothing. 

Fitz took a deep breath, heaving the bat over his head. 

He brought it down with all his might on the man’s kneecap. 

His screams echoed through the empty room as the rain and white neon flashing lights seeped through the roof. 

  
  


Evan couldn’t help but laugh as he and Fitz landed on the roof of the tall skyscraper. He pulled off the two straps that kept him pressed against the tall boy as they flew over the city. 

“I have to get me one of those,” Evan said, stepping away from Fitz. 

The tall boy glanced at him with a smile, his cheeks wet with rain. 

“They’re pretty fun. I love the thrill of falling before taking off…”

“Does the thrill of death do it for you?” Evan smirked. 

“Shut up.” Fitz rolled his eyes, a smile pulling at his lips. His cheeks had turned a soft shade of pink under the drops of rain. “Okay. We’re in and we’re out. Easy. Are you sure you can find your way out?” Fitz asked, pulling the jetpack straps tight around his arms. 

It could only carry two people. 

“Don’t worry about me. Get your boy.” Evan reassured him. “I’ll find my way back to Tyler.” Fitz nodded as Evan walked over to the roof door. He pushed it open, motioning for Fitz to lead the way. Fitz pulled up the white bandanna around his neck, only his eyes visible under his large white hood. Evan did the same, his face hidden under the large black hood he borrowed from Fitz.

“At the Grand downtown!” The man had screamed, blood dripping from his lips. Fitz heaved for air, the bat held tight in his hand. Drops of blood dripped onto his white shoes. “Jonathan keeps him down in the basement…No matter you do...He knows you are coming. He’s got eyes everywhere.” The man smiled a bloody smile. “He could be watching you right now…” 

“His eye screen.” Evan breathed. 

Fitz stared at the man.

Evan was right.

The ring around his iris was glowing.

Slowly, Fitz turned his gaze to Evan. 

The boy dressed in black nodded to the boy in white. 

Fitz grit his teeth and lifted the bat one more time. 

“Do you think he was full of shit?” Fitz asked as he slowly descended the first set of cement stairs, Brian’s gun held tight in his hands. 

“Who was?” Evan asked, following close behind. 

“The guy…Do you think he was full of shit or could Jon really see us through his eye screen?” Fitz glanced nervously back at Evan. “Could he hack into mine?” 

“I wouldn’t put it past him.” 

“Epic…” Fitz muttered. Evan laughed. 

The two moved silently down the cement stairs, their shadows cast onto the walls by white neon lights. 

“Do not let your guard down when we get in there!” Evan had yelled over the wind and the roar of the jetpack. “This place is a front for the Gang. It’s crawling with Members and their hired guns. I should have known they’d keep Mason there...It’s a fucking maze of a hotel. If you don’t know how you got in, you’re not getting out.” 

His words rang through Fitz’s head as he reached the first heavy white door. He pressed himself against the wall, glancing back at Evan. “Duck under the window. We got eighty floors to go.” Evan whispered. Fitz nodded, ducking under the door’s small window and continued down the narrow stairs. 

Their boots clicked on the stairs. 

Just above the door to the forty-second floor, Fitz stopped. He listened intently, hearing the heavy door bang against the cement wall as it opened. He glanced back at Evan, his dark eyes peering out between his black bandanna and hood. “Keep going,” Evan whispered. “Do what you have to.” Fitz nodded, continuing down the stairs as the door closed. by 

They reached the door. 

Fitz dared to peek through the small window into the large white hallway illuminated with a strong pink neon light. “What do you see?” Evan whispered. 

“Nothing…” Fitz quickly moved to the other side of the door, looking down the other end of the hallway. He could see the doors to the elevator. “I heard it open and close…” 

A figure suddenly rose up in front of the window. 

The heavy door swung open, pinning Fitz by his arm against the unforgiving cement wall. White hot pain shot up Fitz's arm. He screamed, his fingers caught between the door and the wall. The man lunged at the boy in black, throwing him back against the stairs. Evan aimed a sharp kick to his chest, throwing him back against the door. Fitz screamed again, feeling bone crack and the skin split. Blood oozed down the back of the door. Fitz managed to raise the gun in his other hand. He fired, the bullet piercing the door and finding its target in the man’s back. Fitz shot twice more before the man fell to the floor. 

Evan pulled the body away from the door, pulling it off Fitz. He held up his broken, twitching hand. 

“Fuck…” Fitz gasped. 

“Here…” Evan pulled off his black bandanna, wrapping it tightly around Fitz’s hand. Fitz met his dark gaze, feeling tears of pain slip down his cheeks. “You’ll be okay.” Fitz nodded. 

“T-Thank you…” Fitz held Evan in his bright gaze. Evan smiled, his hand still gently holding onto Fitz’s. 

“Fitz!” A voice echoed up the stairwell. 

Evan’s brow furrowed, glancing over the railing, down forty-two floors to the bottom. 

Fitz’s eyes were wide.

He couldn’t move. 

He knew that voice.

“Fitz! Help me! Please!” The voice wailed. “Fitz! Please!” 

Fitz pulled his hand, looking over the rail. 

Ten floors below, he saw a flash of pink by the railing. 

Fitz broke into a run down the stairs, his white coat rippling behind him. 

“Fitz!” Evan cried out, running after him. 

The two sprinted down the stairs, the tall boy jumping two a time. 

Fitz reached the thirty-second floor, throwing open the heavy door and burst into the long, dark, empty hallway. A red neon light illuminated the white walls and floor. He heaved for air. 

“Mason!” Fitz called out. “Mason, where are you?” 

“Fitz! Help me! Please!” The boy’s voice echoed through the hall. 

Fitz held the gun tightly in his hands as he made his way down the red hall. 

Evan burst into the hallway behind him, his chest rising and falling heavily. 

“Fitz!” Evan breathed. “Don’t follow it. It’s a projec-” 

“Shut up.” Fitz turned, looking back at Evan. Frantic footsteps pattered down the hallway around the corner. “Do you hear that?” The footsteps faded around another corner. Fitz turned, sprinting around the corner only to find another, empty hallway. He kept running, his lungs burning, his broken fingers now completely numb. 

“Fitz!” Evan ran after him. Fitz felt like he couldn’t run fast enough. He spun around the corner. 

A narrow door at the end of the hallway closed. 

Fitz stumbled to a stop, his chest rising and falling heavily. He stared at the door, glancing back over his shoulder as Evan staggered to stop behind him. Fitz turned back to the door. “Fitz…” 

“Fitz!” Mason’s voice echoed down the hall. “Help me! Please!” 

Fitz started towards the door. Evan grabbed his arm. Fitz yanked his arm away from the black haired boy. He reached for the door. He pulled it open. On the other side of the door was a small room, no bigger than a closet. A vile neon green light glowed from the ceiling. The faint smell of garbage lingered in the air. 

“Fitz…” Evan breathed, reaching for his arm. “We should get back to the stairs.” 

Fitz stared at the small empty room. He knew he had heard Mason. He knew that he had seen this door close. “Fitz…” Evan breathed. 

Slowly, Fitz turned around. 

His eyes widened. 

Luke suddenly shoved Evan into Fitz, the two boys stumbling into the small closet space. 

“Looking for the basement?” Luke laughed. “Take the shortcut!” He slammed the door on them before Fitz could raise his gun and shoot at him. Evan managed to turn, hitting at the door. 

“Fucker!” Evan screamed. “Let us out!” His back was pressed against Fitz who was pinned against the wall. He turned his gaze up to the light above them. 

_ Shortcut… _

The vile green light suddenly turned a violent red. 

The floor dropped out from under them, the stench of garbage rising to meet them. 

Fitz and Evan screamed as they suddenly began to fall, trapped in the narrow dark, red-lit tunnel as they spiralled through the hot air.

“Fuck!” Fitz screamed, his white coat rippling through the air. 

Evan’s hand rubbed raw against the metal as they fell, trying desperately to catch onto something but there was nothing on the smooth wall.

Fitz’s stomach felt like it was in his throat. 

The red light flashed. 

The humid air whipped around them. 

They could see the end of the tunnel rushing up to meet them. 

A scream tore all the air from Fitz’s lungs. 

The two boys crashed into a large bin full of trash bags. 

The red light turned back to the vile green colour. 

Dazed, Fitz lay among the black bags, the world spinning around him. 

Evan let out a groan. 

Evan managed to sit up, looking around the small room they found themselves in. Save for the bin, there was nothing. 

On the far side of the room was a heavy metal door. 

Above the door was a speaker. 

Evan managed to crawl through the bags, pulling himself out of the bin. 

“F-Fitz...Come on.” Evan reached for Fitz. The tall boy gripped his hand, his numb hand clutching the gun. Fitz managed to jump out of the bin, landing with a thud on the cement floor. The jetpack on his back weighed him down, his legs trembling. Evan hurried to the door, pulling at the handle. 

It wouldn’t budge. 

“It’s locked…” Evan whispered. Slowly, he turned to face Fitz. “A-Are you using your screen?” 

"What? No..." Fitz blinked. 

“Your ring is glowing.” 

Panic seized Fitz. 

“He could...He could fry it. He could fry it, Evan!” Fitz screamed, the images of the dead with melted eyes flashing through his head. The boy with a melted eye sitting beside him on the train in his dream flashed in front of him. “Fuck! Fuck! Oh my god!” He reached up to his eye, his nails digging into his eyelid. 

“Calm down.” Evan pulled Fitz's hand away from his eye. With his other hand, he took the gun from Fitz. “Breathe...He wouldn’t...He wouldn’t just fry it.” 

“You’re right, Ev!” A voice crackled through the speaker above the door. The boys turned, looking up at it. “Frying it is boring. Don’t you agree, Fitz?” Jonathan asked.     

“What do you want?” Fitz screamed, panic shattering his voice. 

“Both of you have brought me serious trouble. Five million dollars is a lot of money, Fitz. You killed fifteen of my fellow members, Evan. Of your fellow members. But I decided that both of you don’t have to pay for each other’s mistakes.” Jonathan said casually. Fitz glanced nervously at Evan. “It’s a good thing you have a gun with you.” 

“W-Why?” Evan demanded. 

“Because only one of you is walking out of that room. Only one of you will have to pay,” Jonathan said sharply. Evan met Fitz’s wide-eyed gaze. Tears slipped down Fitz’s cheeks. The ring around his iris glowed unwillingly. “You will both be jury...but only one will be the executioner.” 


	24. Signal

“Where would they go?” 

“After the Gang.” Blue neon light illuminated the inside of the police car. The ring around Brian’s iris glowed brightly. Sitting beside him, Tyler watched the officer. The racer sat awkwardly, not wanting to touch anything in the police car. The same question floated over and over through his mind.

_ Can I trust you? _

“Evan said he wasn’t going to go after them anymore...” Tyler said quietly. 

“How well do you know Evan?” Brian asked, glancing at Tyler through the words and images that floated around him. Tyler blinked. 

“Well...” 

“Do you trust him?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” Brian held Tyler in his gaze. 

“I-I..” Tyler stammered. Brian turned his attention back to the surveillance images floating around him. Rain pattered against the metal of the hovercar. “I want to save him, Brian. He saved me.” 

“And I want to save Fitz.” 

“Why?” Tyler said sharply. Brian turned his gaze back to the racer. “Why do you want to save some low life hacker?”

“Because it’s the right thing.” Brian said. He turned his attention back to the images floating around him.

“What is the right thing?” Tyler mumbled. Brian didn’t answer him. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m looking for Evan and Fitz.” 

“How?” 

“Surveillance cameras.” 

“You can do that?” 

“Yeah. All police officers have that software in their eye screens.” 

“Jesus...” Tyler breathed. He glanced out the window at the busy street and the rain falling. “You do know that Evan still has his phone...Right?”   
Brian slowly turned his head to glare at the racer. 

“Thank you for letting me waste our fucking time.”

“Sorry. I thought you knew.” Tyler smiled. Brian glared at him. 

It didn’t take him long to find the boy’s phone signal, the glowing white dot appearing in the map. “He’s downtown...At the Grand?” 

“Oh god.” Tyler rubbed his temples. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.” 

“Don’t say that...” Brian gave him a warning glance. “Let's just hope we have enough to stop them before someone does actually kill them.” The map disappeared as he turned his eye screen off. He started the hover car, it’s red and blue neon lights flashing as it rose into the cold air. Steam swirled through the air. 

“Do you think they are just going to let us in because you are a police officer?” Tyler asked, his eyes on the neon skyscrapers passing by the wet windows. 

“No.” Brian’s gaze was fixed on the city ahead of him. “But they are smart, they will. Because there is a wanted suspect in their building.” Brian glanced at Tyler who stared back at him.

Tyler blinked. 

“You fucker...” 

 

White neon light filled the large, nearly empty lobby of the large building. Below the white floors, a neon club raged, music thudding through the white floor. The hotel’s large glass doors opened. The blonde police officer made his way to the large, white front desk, his golden badge glinting in the white light. His grey coat fluttered around him. 

“May I help you, sir?” 

“I have a warrant to search this building. There is reason to believe that a wanted killer is hiding in this hotel.” Brian said, reaching into his long coat for the warrant. The young woman sitting at the front desk stared at him, her eyes wide.

“I-I...I’ll have to call Mr Jonathan…”

“Then call him.” Brian crossed his arms, his bright gaze flickering down to the warrant on the desk in front of him. The woman reached for the phone, dialling the number. Brian glanced back at the glass doors and the camera in the corner. “I’m going to drop you off out back. There is a staff entrance through the parking garage. I need you to get in through there and into the club. Pull the fire alarm. That’ll turn the elevators off and cause a panic.” Brian had instructed Tyler. “It looks like Evan or his phone is in the basement under the club. Once the fire alarm is going off, it’s a quick run down there.”

Brian turned away from the doors, looking down at the woman who was nervously biting one of her sparkling nails, the phone held against her ear. She looked up at him.

“He’s not answering…” She said softly. A heavy feeling of dread dug its claws into Brian’s back.

“Please try again. This suspect is very dangerous.” Brian said. She nodded, dialling again. Brian tapped his fingers on the white desk.

With a loud wail, the fire alarm suddenly went off. A harsh, white neon light flashed. Brian suddenly pushed himself away from the desk, running to the staircase on the other side of the lobby.

“Hey!” The woman at the front desk yelled after him. “Stop!”

Brian pushed open the heavy door as a few of the hotel’s staff ran up the stairs, panic written on their faces. Brian hurried down the cement stairs, bursting into the brightly lit hallway full of panicked club goers, their brightly coloured costumes and makeup sparkling in the white flashing light. Brian pushed through the crowd, seeing a sign for the parking garage at the end of the hall. He reached the door, pushing it open onto another narrow set of stairs. He reached the bottom, shoving open the door. He was greeted with the sound of Tyler yelling as he threw a man dressed in a black suit to the cement floor; the man’s face was caked with blood. Tyler gave the man a hard kick to the ribs, his black coat fluttering around him. The white neon light flashed, the alarm wailed.

“Tyler!” Brian called out. The fighter turned, looking back at the police officer. There was blood on Tyler’s face but Brian couldn’t tell if it was his or not. “Come on.” Brian started through the garage, pulling his gun from his belt. He made his way to the other end of the garage where the entrance to the basement was. He pushed open the door, leading the way into a large white-lit room that was empty save for a table covered with playing cards.

“Hey!” Brian turned his head away from the cards to a narrow door at the other end of the room near the hallway to the rest of the basement. Through the small barred window in the door, he could see a young, dirty face and hands clutching the bars. “Help me! Please! Get me out of here! Please!” Brian ran over to the door, his eyes locked on the young boy on the other side of the door. Brian pulled at the door handle but it wouldn’t budge. The boy let out a wail. “Please! Please!”

“Mason, right?” The boy nodded. He sniffled, tears slipping down his dirty cheeks. There were bruises on his face. “I know Fitz. He’s here. He’s coming to get you.” Brian said softly though he wasn’t sure if he truly believed that. Mason’s eyes widened. “He’s coming, I promise.” Brian glanced back at Tyler. The fighter glanced between Mason and the officer before starting down the hall, heading deeper into the basement. “He’s coming, I promise. We’ll get you out of here. We just gotta find the key,” Brian said, hoping it’d be enough to calm the boy. Mason reached for him through the bars as Brian stepped away.

“Don’t leave me!” Mason sobbed. “Please! Don’t leave me!”

“We’ll be back! I promise!” Brian said, quickly turning his back on the boy and hurrying after Tyler.

“Please!” Mason’s screams echoed down the hall. “Come back! Fitz! Fitz! Please! Fitz!”

Brian tried not to listen to the boy’s screams.

“This way…” Brian turned right, his eye screen glowing as he followed the map to Evan’s signal.

Brian’s screen faded.

At the end of the hall was the door to the garbage room.

Brian glanced back at Tyler before hurrying down the hall to the door. Brian pulled at the handle but like the cell Mason was trapped in, it would not budge. “Fitz! Evan!” Brian yelled, hitting at the door. He pressed his ear against the cold metal but he couldn’t hear anything.

“What if they aren’t in there?” Tyler cried.

“Where else could they be then?” Brian asked, looking back at Tyler. “We’d know if Evan still had a fucking eye screen.”

“I did that to protect him.” Tyler snapped. Brian glanced back at him, his eyes narrowed slightly. “Fuck you.”

“I’m trying to help you!”

“No! You’re trying to save Fitz and only Fitz. Evan just happens to be a pit stop along the way and you’ll just use him like you used me!” Tyler shot back. “You have your own fucking agenda! You used me! You wouldn’t have cared if I got killed trying to pull the alarm so long as I pulled it! So long as you had an alibi if we got caught by the Gang! You’d just be doing your fucking job! Nothing with that, right? Admit it! You’re a selfish prick!” Tyler yelled. “And the only reason you care about Fitz is because of the pretty promotion you’d get if you turn him in!”

"No! That's not why I care!” Brian yelled, turning away from the door to face Tyler. The white neon light flashed. “I care about him and his boy and doing the right fucking thing! I don’t care about any promotion! The force is run by the Gang. I hate the Gang and everything they’ve done to this city. Just once, I want to see something good happen. Getting Fitz and his boy home is the right thing!” Brian snarled. Tyler stared down at him. “And you know what...I will do anything to make sure it happens.”

Tyler parted his lips to throw a searing insult at Brian.

The white neon light flashed.

The alarm wailed.

A gunshot from the other side of the heavy door made Brian jump.

Brian turned, his eyes on the door.

Down the hall, Mason continued to scream and hit at the door, his fits starting to bleed.

The white neon light flashed.

The alarm wailed.

There was a click.

The door slowly opened.


	25. Angel

“You will both be jury...but only one will be the executioner.” Jonathan’s voice rang through the dark room. Evan held Fitz’s hand tightly. Fitz couldn’t breathe, his chest rising and falling heavily. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

_Mason...Mason...I have to get to Mason…_

Fitz met Evan’s dark gaze.

“Good luck,” Jonathan laughed as the speaker turned off.

The neon green light swallowed them whole, drenching them in a nauseating shade.

There was a steady calm in the boy’s eyes.

The lights around his wrists glowed a strange, sickly shade of gold.

“E-Evan…” Fitz managed to say. Evan stared at the green floor. His hand began to tremble slightly in Fitz’s grasp. “Evan, what do we do?” Fitz cried. Evan looked up at Fitz. Tears spilled from the tall boy’s bright eyes. His golden curls caressed his forehead. The white he wore was coloured a vile green shade in the light. The ring around his iris glowed but it was not Fitz who watched the screen.

“It's obvious…” Evan whispered.

“No…No don’t say that. We can get out of here. There must be another way! There must be!” Fitz cried. “There has to be another way!”

Evan shook his head.

“There isn’t…There never is with Jonathan...” He looked down at the gun in his hand. “You gotta take care of Mason.”

“Evan!”

“You gotta take him home. Keep him out of trouble.”

“Stop it!”

“It's okay.” Evan looked up at Fitz.

He glanced at his glowing ring around his bright iris.

Evan stepped closer to Fitz, the tall boy pressing his back against the cold cement wall.

“This is you saving me…” Evan said quietly. “This is me doing the right thing.”

“No. This isn’t the right thing!” Fitz cried. “Shut up! Help me think! We are getting out of here!”

“You are.” Evan breathed. He slowly pulled his hand away from Fitz’s clutching fingers. The tall boy heaved for air, staring down at the black haired boy with wide eyes. Evan’s dark gaze flickered down to his soft lips. “I’ve always wanted to kiss an angel…” Fitz blinked, staring down at Evan. “Can I...Can I kiss you?”

“What about Tyler?”

“What he doesn’t know…won’t hurt him...” Evan breathed. He met Fitz’s bright gaze. “Can I?”

Fitz stared down at him, his hands trembling. He nodded.

“Close your eyes…” Evan whispered.

Fitz’s eyes remained locked on Evan for a few moments before slowly closing.

The glow from his eye screen faded.

Evan leaned up on his tiptoes.

Fitz felt Evan’s lips against his, felt his warm breath against his cheeks. He felt Evan’s fingers caress his cheek, threading into his golden hair as he kissed him. Fitz’s heart raced. He tasted the sweat on Evan’s lip. He felt the cold wall against his back. His arms snaked around Evan’s waist, his hands feeling the soft, expensive fabric of the black coat he wore. Evan broke away for a moment, the two heaving for air.

“Keep your eyes closed…” Evan breathed. Fitz nodded. In the dark, he could feel Evan, could feel his thumb caressing his warm cheek, could feel the gun in Evan’s other hand press against Fitz’s side.

_Angel…_

Evan’s lips found their way back to his, his hand sliding to the back of Fitz’s neck to pull him closer.

A wailing alarm suddenly rang through the room.

Fitz started to pull away, the alarm hurting his ears.

Evan pulled him back, Fitz’s eyes flickering closed again.

A white neon light flashed urgently.

Evan’s hand slid down Fitz’s white-clad chest. He grabbed Fitz’s hand, forcing his fingers around the gun.

“N-No…” Fitz gasped, breaking away from the kiss.

“Please keep your eyes closed…” Evan breathed. “I don’t want...I don’t want this to haunt you…”

“E-Evan…” Fitz choked out. Evan placed his free hand over Fitz’s eyes. Blinded, Fitz could only hear the alarm, could only feel Evan’s hand over his eyes and the gun in his hand, could only smell garbage, could only taste his own salty tears slipping down his cheeks. The end of the gun’s barrel pressed against Evan’s stomach.

“P-Please…Angel…Save me.” Fitz felt Evan press a kiss to his jaw. Fitz took a deep, shuddering breath. The tall boy gripped the gun tightly. He could hear a faint thudding sound and a yell coming from the other side of the door.

_Mason…_

Fitz’s finger curled around the trigger.

Evan pressed a soft kiss to the tall boy’s neck.

“Angel…” Evan whispered, trailing kisses up to Fitz’s ear.

Fitz pulled the trigger.

The gunshot reverberated through the room, deafening Fitz’s ears.

Evan let out a cry of pain, pressing his face against Fitz’s shoulder, burying his face in the fabric of his white coat.

His hand slipped from Fitz’s eyes, falling limp at his side.

The tall boy slowly lowered the black haired boy to the floor.

Blood oozed between Evan’s lips.

He held onto Fitz with shaking fingers, his bloody lips forming words against the tall boy’s ear.

Fitz slowly opened his eyes, staring down at the black haired boy.

Blood dripped onto the cement floor and stained Fitz’s white clothes.

Fitz let out a sob, pressing his face against Evan’s heaving chest.

The door’s lock clicked.

Fitz looked up as the door opened, tears slipping down his face.

The boy in black lay limp in Fitz’s arms, his long black coat pooling on the floor around him.

In the doorway, Brian and Tyler stared at them, their faces pale with shock.

The white light flashed.

The alarm wailed.

“N-No…” Tyler gasped as he stumbled into the dark room. “No…”


	26. Nothing Sweet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last update of this series for now!! I am 100% coming back to it with another part!! I already have so many ideas! There are so many things and characters to explore! Thank you so much for the support of this series!!! <3

The alarm wailed.

The white neon light flashed.

Blood soaked into milk-white clothes.

The fighter dropped to his knees with a thud on to the cement floor. His sharp knuckled hands reached for the boy dressed all in black, pulling him into his arms. The boy’s black hair fell over Tyler’s arm as his head limply rolled. Tyler hugged him tightly, absorbing the boy into the black mass of fabric he wore. Tears spilled down Tyler’s face, landing on Evan’s bloody face.

Fitz couldn’t move, his white sleeves soaked with blood. The gun remained clutched in his hand.

He could feel Evan’s blood on his ear.

The whispered words Evan had spoken against his ear rang through his head. It took everything he had to not wipe the blood off.

Slowly, he lifted his left hands, the pads of his fingers touching his lips as if to wipe off Evan’s kisses. Through the wail of the alarm, he could hear Tyler’s sobs.

Evan’s left hand hung limply at his side.

None of them saw the bright, panicked white glow emitting from the lights powered by his own heartbeat. The white neon glimmer was lost in the flashing white emergency light.

_Pain is temporary..._

“T-Tyler…” Fitz struggled to say.

“It’s your fault...You fucking took everything away...You selfish prick.” Tyler snarled as he raised his head. He leaned over Evan as a great cat would lean over its dead prey towards Fitz. “We were going to get out of here. We were going to put all of this behind us...We were going to make it better. And then you...You had to take it all away!”

“I-I...I’m sorry…” Fitz gasped. “He...He loved you, Tyler.” That felt like the right thing to say.

“Go to hell…” Tyler’s voice broke as Brian carefully stepped around him, towards Fitz. He pulled the tall boy to his feet. Blood dripped from the hem of Fitz’s white coat.

“Fitz...We...We should go.” Brian said quietly. Fitz stared down at Tyler and the dead boy he held in his arms.

“Tyler…”

“Stop talking to me!” The fighter yelled over the alarm. “Stop! Leave us alone!”

“You should get out of here before you get killed too,” Fitz said. He reached for Tyler’s shoulder, his bloody fingers gently clutching onto him. “Please, Tyler…” The fighter said nothing. “Evan didn’t do this for more of us to die.” Tyler looked up at Fitz.

“H-He did this?” Tyler struggled to say. “You mean...he never wanted to...to leave with me? He just...wanted to leave on his own…” Tyler’s voice broke. Fitz stared down at him. The white alarm light flashed. He had been the one to pull the trigger but Evan had been the one to put the gun into his hand.

“Jon...He gave us no choice...I tried to tell him not to do this but he wouldn’t listen. I’m so sorry, Tyler…” Fitz sobbed. Tyler remained silent. After a moment, he gently laid Evan down on the floor and got to his feet. He met Fitz’s tear-filled gaze. Tyler pulled his fist back and punched the hacker hard in the face. Fitz stumbled back, falling against the garbage bin. Blood seeped down his face from his nose. He could taste his blood, the bitter iron taste filling his mouth. “You are a fucking selfish, horrible human being, you know that? Both of you are! You are no better than anyone!” Tyler yelled. “You killed Evan! Not Jon! Not the Gang! You...Fitz, killed Evan!” The alarm wailed. Fitz stared at Tyler.

_Not enough…_

“Tyler!” Brian snapped. “Stop it! You should listen to Fitz and just get out of here before you get shot too!” Tyler turned his sharp, tear-filled gaze to Brian.

“I could die tomorrow and I wouldn’t care…” Tyler said quietly. Fitz glanced down at Evan’s limp body on the cold, dirty cement floor.

“Don’t say that.” Brian sighed. “Please, Tyler. Just g-” Before he could finish his sentence, a scream echoed down the hall and into the garbage room. Fitz’s head snapped to the doorway.

The tall boy in white bloody clothes broke into a run, sprinting down the hall.

“Fitz!” Brian yelled, running after him. Tyler remained for a moment longer, before slowly following the officer and the hacker. “Fitz!” Brian screamed.

Fitz sprinted down the hall. His muscles screamed. His eyes stung with tears. The jetpack thumped heavily against his back. The gun in his hand glinted in the white neon light. The screams got louder.

“Mason! Mason!” Fitz rounded the corner. He burst into the large room, stumbling to a stop, his eyes wide.

“Fitz!” Struggling in the grasp of the blue horned man was Mason, his pink sweater dotted with dirt and blood, his face painted with bruises. Jonathan’s arm wrapped tightly around his throat. With his other hand, he pressed a gun against Mason’s head. Nearby stood Luke and another young man dressed all in grey. “Fitz!” Mason wailed. He reached for the tall boy, tears streaming down his face. Fitz’s bloody hands trembled.

“Let him go!” Brian called out as he reached Fitz. Tyler remained a few feet behind Fitz. “Jonathan you are under arrest! Let the boy go now!”

“Under arrest…” Jonathan laughed. Mason struggled to breathe, his eyes fixed on Fitz who stared back at him. “Arresting me won’t do anything. Killing me won’t do anything. You’ve barely scratched the surface of the Gang.” He smiled. “We are everywhere.”

“Let Mason go!” Brian yelled. He raised his gun, aiming it at Jonathan. “Now!”

“He’ll shoot Mason!” Fitz turned to Brian. “Don’t...Don’t shoot him, please!”

“I know what I’m doing, hacker.” Brian snapped. Tyler blinked, watching Brian closely. “Trust me.”

“H-Hacker?” Mason choked out. Fitz turned his head back to Mason. “What...What do you mean, hacker?”

“Did Fitzy not tell you?” Jonathan laughed. “He’s a criminal just like me!”

“No...No don’t listen to him, Masey…Please.” Fitz’s voice broke. “Please…” He tried to hide the blood on his white clothes, struggling to wipe off his face and ear. Mason stared at Fitz. Slowly, Mason shook his head. He reached his hand out to Fitz, fighting against Jonathan.

“F-Fitz…”

“Just let him go!” Brian cried. “Now, Jonathan!” The gun in his hand trembled.

“What will killing me do? Nothing. Five million dollars will not reappear. Evan and the almost forty people he killed will not come back to life. The Gang will not dissolve. You won't be accomplishing a damn thing,” Jonathan sneered. Brian stared at him. Fitz glanced nervously between Brian, Jonathan and Mason. Tyler watched with narrowed eyes. The blue horns growing from Jonathan’s shoulders glinted in the light. “You are nothing,” Jonathan said sharply. “We are all nothing but a cog in the machine.” Jonathan smiled.

Brian pulled the trigger.

Fitz screamed.

Blood spurted from Jonathan’s skull.

Mason shoved Jonathan’s arm off him as he pulled the trigger, the bullet narrowly missing Mason and striking the cement wall.

Luke and the man in grey beside him raised their guns to fire.

Fitz lunged forward, his arms reaching for Mason.

Tyler ducked behind the cement wall, his chest rising and falling heavily.

Brian covered Fitz as he lunged forward, shooting at Luke and the man in grey.

Mason grabbed onto Fitz’s hand.

Fitz pulled Mason into his arms, picking him up off his feet and ran for the door, his white coat fluttering around him.

A bullet whizzed past Fitz and struck Brian in the stomach.

The officer staggering back.

Blood soaked through his grey coat.

Brian managed to keep his gun raised as he followed Fitz and Mason out into the parking garage, shooting at Luke and the other man as they ducked for cover.

Fitz burst into the parking garage, setting Mason down before they fell over.

Mason kept his arms wrapped around Fitz, hugging him tightly.

Fitz embraced Mason, burying his face in his hair as he began to sob.

“I’m so sorry…” Fitz heaved for air. Mason shook his head, his face pressed against Fitz’s chest.

_Get out. Find Fitz…_

“I’m sorry…” Mason sobbed. “I was stupid!”

“Don’t say that...It’s okay. It’s okay…” Fitz knelt down to be eye level with the younger boy. He gently cupped Mason’s face in his face. “It’s okay. I love you.” He pulled Mason into a tight hug. Fitz pressed his face against Mason's pink-clad shoulder, his arms tight around the boy. Mason clung to Fitz. The boy's gaze slowly rose to look up at Brian as he ran towards them.

“We...We gotta get out of here!” Brian managed to say as Tyler burst into the parking garage, hearing the bombardment of gunshots from Luke and the other man. He angrily pushed past Brian, running towards the door to the stairs. Brian looked back at the door behind them swung open. Brian suddenly lunged in front of Fitz and Mason as Luke opened fire. Another bullet struck Brian’s shoulder. Mason screamed, holding onto Fitz tightly.

“Get to the stairs! Get outside!” Brian gasped out, shooting at Luke. The door swung shut again. Fitz got to his feet, holding onto Mason’s hand tightly as they ran after Tyler. They caught up to Tyler in the lobby as he ran towards the front door.

“Come on!” Fitz quickened his pace, Mason struggling to keep up with the tall boy. Fitz watched in horror as Tyler ran outside towards Brian’s hovercar. He pulled open the door, starting the car. “Tyler!” Fitz screamed as he and Mason ran into the rain towards the car. “Tyler, don’t!” Tyler flipped him off as the car began to rise into the cold night sky. “You mother fucker!” Fitz screamed. Mason stared up at the car, watching it disappear around the corner.

The door behind them opened. Fitz turned, looking back at Brian as he staggered towards them, blood dripping down his grey coat. Fitz’s eyes widened. “B-Brian!”

“You have to go. Now. They aren’t gonna stop. You have to hide. Get out of the city. Whatever you gotta do. The Gang will hunt you down.” Brian suddenly coughed out blood. Fitz reached for him. Brian pushed his hands away. He grabbed Mason, pulling him towards Fitz. He grabbed the straps of the jetpack, starting to strap Mason into it with the taller boy.

“Wait...Stop! You have to come with us!” Fitz cried desperately. “Brian please!” Tears welled up in Fitz’s eyes. “Brian!”

“It only carries two…” Brian said softly, tightening the strap. Mason stared up at him, his eyes wide. He glanced back at Fitz. Seeing him cry hurt. “It’s okay. It’s okay!” Luke and several other men armed with guns burst into the hotel lobby. Rain showered down Fitz’s face, washing the blood off him. Brian looked back inside at the lobby and the armed Gang members rushing towards them. Blood oozed from the officer’s wounds. He turned his gaze up to the night sky. “It’s a good night for flying…”

“Brian!” Fitz screamed.

“It’s okay. This is the right thing.” Brian smiled. “I can push you.”

“Brian! No! What are you doing?” Fitz screamed. "Stop! Stop! Come with us! Brian! No!"

Brian pushed the jetpack’s button.

The jetpack rumbled to life, steam bursting from its rockets.

Fitz reached for Brian.

The engines kicked into gear.

Fitz and Mason shot into the air, white steam swirling around them.

Mason closed his eyes tightly as he listened to Fitz scream.

The wind whipped around them, pulling at Fitz’s white coat.

The neon lights sparkled around them.

Fitz wrapped his arms tightly around Mason, his gaze locked on the street below.

Mason stared up at the night sky as they rose higher and higher.

He never thought that he'd fly before.

Slowly, Brian turned back to the lobby doors, raising his gun.

“The right thing…” He whispered. The door burst open. “The right thing…”

The sound of gunshots filled the night.

Blood ran into the flooded gutter.

  


Rain pattered on the circular windows. Two empty bubble tea cups stood on guard on the kitchen counter, their neon straws glowing in the dim light. Hanging out of the laundry basket was a pink hoodie and a bloody towel. A jetpack rested by the front door. The bedroom door to Mason’s messy room stood open, gentle lamplight spilling into the living room.

Nestled among warm blankets and his pink fox stuffed animal, Mason slept soundly. His face had been cleaned by Fitz who had sat him down on the edge of the tub and gently cleaned his face with a warm cloth. Now, Fitz lay beside him on top of the blankets, gently rubbing his back. Fitz's eyes were red from crying. He had scrubbed his ear and lips until his skin felt raw.

They hadn’t spoken about what happened, about what Fitz did to keep a roof over their heads. They didn’t need to talk about it. Mason knew what Fitz did but he understood. So long as Fitz let him steal sips from his bubble tea, made him breakfast and watched stupid movies with him, everything was okay. So long as Mason was here, safe and happy, everything was okay.

Fitz closed his eyes, his hand gently moving in soft circles across Mason’s back. The spinning lamp with cut out stars from when Mason was younger cast spinning stars onto the walls. Rain pattered on the circular window. Outside, the city glowed.

Fitz’s phone on the bedside table lit up.

The tall boy opened his bright eyes, the ring around his iris lighting up.

Words and images floated around him.

He had a new message from a number that wasn’t in his contacts.

He frowned, opening the message.

“Not everything is as it seems...We still have work to do,” The message read. “With love...The Angel of Death…”

 

 

 

 

 

The End? 


End file.
